


Born of Your Craving

by BawdyBean, bookscorpion



Series: The World of Us [5]
Category: Shadowrun: Hong Kong, Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Consensual Non-Consent, Dom/sub, Edge Play, Established Relationship, Fandom Blind Friendly, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Rape/Non-con, Rape Fantasy, Rape Play, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Smut, Top!Geralt, sub!Eskel, top!Eskel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:20:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 109,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23929063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BawdyBean/pseuds/BawdyBean, https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookscorpion/pseuds/bookscorpion
Summary: It started with Yrden, and ended up with the four of them curled on the giant bed in the Ruby Room at The Rosemary and Thyme.When Rhys suggests rape play, Eskel says no. And then figures out a way to make it possible after all. Other roleplay and edge play scenes develop from this, in various combinations of the polycule, pushing boundaries for everyone involved.In the latesttwo chapters:Rhys dropped his gaze, watching Eskel from under his lashes as he considered his options. Something made Eskel nervous, fiddling with the Gwent deck, and Rhys aimed to appear more vulnerable and nervous himself.Rhys plays a dangerous game, with both Eskel and Geralt.AND THENThe shackle on Rhys’ ankle came away easily. Eskel stood up and back to watch Rhys as he undressed. There were bruises. They were not small.Eskel winced.Rhys and Eskel play and things go wrong. But Geralt and Rhys catch Eskel and make things right again.
Relationships: Eskel (The Witcher)/Rhys Morgan, Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Duncan Wu, Rhys Morgan/Duncan Wu
Series: The World of Us [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1612003
Comments: 88
Kudos: 42





	1. Born of Your Craving

**Author's Note:**

> Content notes for every chapter will be in the end notes.  
> This fic will update on roughly a monthly schedule on the last day of the month.  
> Companion fic to [Orkish Delight](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20695814/chapters/49159487) and [London Calling](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22363516/chapters/53426533) but can be read on its own.

It started with Yrden, and ended up with the four of them curled on the giant bed in the Ruby Room at The Rosemary and Thyme.

Rhys had been set on trying Eskel’s sign to see if they could use it when they played and Eskel hadn’t been far behind ever since that first night. Rhys was always seeking new ways to offer Eskel control and Eskel wanted everything. More than immobilizing Rhys, taking his magic away, even for a few minutes, was the most heady kind of control Eskel could imagine with him.

But as there tends to be when you try new things, there were unforeseen consequences. The sheer panic that had come over Rhys when they’d tried it, just relaxing in the living room of the London apartment had been enough to make Eskel dispel the Sign before Rhys could even utter a coherent word.

It hadn’t just blocked him from his magic like they’d anticipated, kept him from astrally projecting, but had cut off his ability to feel Bear as well. Eskel had let go of the idea then and there.

Which is why he was genuinely surprised when Rhys brought it up again at the lighthouse one weekend away. With the suggestion that he wanted to try it still, that he thought he could handle it if he had a _reason_ to feel that panic while they played. Eskel was dubious but heard him out quietly, laying in bed with Rhys snuggled in his arms.

***

Now that he was about to explain it, Rhys suddenly was self-conscious. What if he made Eskel uncomfortable with this or scared him off, what Rhys wanted from him _was_ extreme.

He propped himself up on his elbow, one leg draped over Eskel, a hand splayed on his chest, playing with the hairs there. While they talked about this, he wanted to look at Eskel, be able to gauge his reaction. From his face, not his aura, even though it was tempting to look, it was so much easier to read at times.

With a deep breath, Rhys took the leap. "I want us to roleplay, to act out a scene. I want you to scare me, to make it clear that I have no choice and no say in this." No sense in beating around the bush. "I want to be able to pretend that you're raping me."

Outside, the waves crashed against the shore and the wind howled around the lighthouse in gusts. Between those, the sound of the steadily falling rain filled the room while Eskel thought it over. It seemed like an eternity for Rhys.

***

“When I say this _do not_ think ‘m troubled that you’d want this.” Shoving hard at the dread, guilt, and remorse crawling along his spine Eskel took Rhys hand and brought it to his lips. With a gentle kiss he drew Rhys back in, running his fingers through Rhys loose hair. “‘Cause ‘m not. At all. But ‘s still not somethin’ I can ever do for you.”

The warm body in his arms seemed to shrink at bit at his answer and Eskel wanted to kick something for not being able to give Rhys this. There was no way his answer on this would ever change though. “You hafta understand it’s like makin’ someone bleed. I jus’ can’t hurt someone like that, even if ‘s only an act.”

The muffled sound of Rhys’ answer made it to Eskel’s ears. “-kay. It’s alright.”

“Believe me, if there was anyway I thought I could make this work for you. I would.” Rhys’ head moved against his neck and Eskel used his grip in Rhys’ hair to tip his head back. “I mean it.” Eskel kissed Rhys’ lips slow and easy. “I don’ think you’re weird. Geralt has asked me for far more before.” Letting a half smile slip onto his face Eskel felt the panic at the idea of hurting Rhys settle back into the shadows.

The idea didn’t leave Eskel though. Knowing that there was something Rhys wanted and that he couldn’t give him outright. It took a few weeks but an idea formed. Maybe it would work if Geralt was there. Geralt would find pretending like that much easier, and though he would never want to do it alone, he enjoyed following Eskel’s orders. 

When Eskel suggested that to Rhys it was decided that all four of them needed to talk. Rhys said that he was open to the idea but that everyone needed to be on the same page. Honestly that sounded like a great idea to Eskel. Geralt and him had talked about whether it would be wise to share their past with the orks and came to the conclusion that if they wanted to play this way it was necessary.

***

Duncan hugged Rhys to himself, wrapping both arms and one leg around him. Opposite them, Eskel held Geralt similarly close, leaning against the headboard of the big bed. There was some space between them, but not so much that they couldn't have reached out and touched.

Outside, Novigrad street life was already in full swing, people carrying their goods to and from the various markets. The Rosemary & Thyme still slept, having gone to bed only a couple of hours before. But after an early breakfast, none of them felt like waiting any longer to have this conversation.

Clearing his throat, Duncan sought for a good beginning. He had tried to plan how he would explain all this but in the end he had decided to wing it. There had been no use in planning this and he had, right now, forgotten everything he had meant to say.

"Rhys talked to me about what you're planning to do - has talked to me before coming to you with this in fact. Normally it wouldn't be any of my business, but this touches on things that happened between Rhys and me. We're not doing this kind of play. Rape play. We used to. And then we fucked up and it suddenly was real." Duncan paused and Rhys gave his hand an encouraging squeeze.

"Rhys froze up and I didn't notice. I didn't check in with him, just continued to take what I wanted. Held him down and raped him. I did stop eventually, but much too late. And the whole time, Rhys was fighting to stop himself from just killing me. It would have been easy for him." Raising his head, Duncan finally looked up at Eskel and Geralt. He couldn't read their expressions at all but didn't stop very long to try.

For a moment, he pressed his face into Rhys' neck before continuing. "It took us a long time to figure out how to be together again after that. Even though it hadn't been intentional, just an accident. Lack of good planning. Didn't change the outcome one bit. But with time, it got easier. We were not about to let this tear us apart and it didn't. But what you are planning - it might touch on this and you deserve to know."

Rhys tipped his head back to place a kiss on Duncan's jaw. Duncan's heart beat, fast and hard, thumped against Rhys' back and he held Rhys so firmly it was almost squeezing the air out of Rhys, but he slowly relaxed. With another kiss to Duncan's neck, Rhys took over the talking.

"Long before Duncan, I was with someone who abused me. Playing like this, it's a way for me to deal with that. It's safe and under control. But Duncan said something that suddenly took me back to that time so completely that I could barely remember that this was Duncan. It was all I could do to keep myself under control and not just tear him to pieces. I just wasn't able to understand I could have used my safeword and ended it immediately." Reaching out, Rhys let his fingers trail over Eskel's arm, Geralt's thigh before ending up placing his hand on Duncan's again. 

"I don't think it's going to happen again, but then I didn't think it would happen even once. We're telling you all of this so you can make a decision, knowing all the facts. So we can plan if you decide that you still want to play like this with me. Please don't hesitate to tell me if you don't, I won't be hurt or angry. And if you feel like you need to know more about any of this, please ask." With a smile for both of the witchers, Rhys leaned back against Duncan. This was hard and he knew already he would be exhausted by the time they were done.

***

It took a moment for it to all settle in. But Geralt _understood_. He understood why Rhys had been tempted to do this with Duncan of all people in the first place. He understood why Duncan had been insistent about clarifying what he’d meant when Geralt had asked to be made to feel like prey. He understood why it was important to Duncan to know that Geralt wanted to play with his fear and not to feel like he was being raped. The two of them together had such clear rules around what they did with Geralt enjoying being scared—Geralt never fought back. He didn’t want to.

Geralt understood because he was a predator like Duncan. There was always a possibility of violence in his life. Preying on monsters was his job, sometimes those monsters were men. And it didn’t bother him one bit to end that kind of man. The fact that Duncan and him were so similar was why Geralt would never want to play like this with Rhys alone. As easily as he got lost in things when playing, it wouldn’t be hard for him to do the same thing. Someone else needed to be there to watch over him and be in control for him.

“Thank you. For telling us.” Geralt spoke softly and with a surprising amount of conviction when he continued, “We understand where you are coming from all too well.” Eskel’s arms squeezed around him, but he barreled forward anyway. When they’d talked Eskel had seemed determined to tell it himself but Geralt had a few things he felt that he had to make clear. Especially to Rhys, and especially because he was the one who was going to be playing the part of the attacker.

“In fact I know exactly where you’re coming from when you say you want to play like this.” Geralt looked right at Rhys. “Duncan and I play with me giving him my cock. It terrifies me, and I want to be terrified. I _like_ it and it’s obvious, so it’s not this kind of play, but it touches on the same issues for me. I’m terrified of it because that choice was taken from me once. Playing with Duncan in this way has allowed me to be able to make the choice on my own again.”

Unable to stand the way Geralt put it so diplomatically Eskel broke in. “What he means to say is: I raped him.” Eskel blew out a breath and looked at the orks. How the fuck did they all end up here? Lives having followed such similar paths before colliding and mingling. “It wasn’t while we were playin’ an’ it wasn’t violent. Like you, Duncan, I didn’t intend it, but I knew better, an’ intentions don’ change a damn thing about this.”

Burying his nose in Geralt’s hair Eskel breathed deeply for a long minute as silence stretched on before he told Duncan and Rhys what really happened. They deserved to know that at least, if they were to go forward with this, and even if they didn’t it would rest Rhys’ mind once and for all why Eskel _could not_ do this to Rhys himself. It would assure Rhys that it was nothing to do with Eskel’s concern about what Rhys desired.

“You know that Geralt an’ I were apart for a while—when you first met him in fact.” Eskel lifted his head. “During that time somethin’ happened to him that caused him to have amnesia, an’ he pretty much landed on my doorstep. Of course the attraction was still there for both of us, an’ instead of takin’ care of him an’ tellin’ him that we weren’t together anymore, I took advantage of it. I took what I wanted an’ he willingly gave it, but without even knowing what he was giving. That’s rape.”

“Tha’s why I can’t play an active role. An’ this whole setup makes me nervous as a maid at court _but_ I trust Geralt, an’ I trust Rhys. I want to be able to give Rhys what he wants, without it causing harm, even though I can see a lot of ways it might not work. I hope that my senses will give me the advantage to see if somethin’ is goin’ wrong earlier than someone else would. An’ I hope that by havin’ me there to watch out for everyone, instead of relyin’ on the two people involved to remember they can stop it, we make it safer.” Sighing, Eskel pulled Geralt back against him, he felt like he should be more worried about what the orks might think of him now, but everyone had spilled secrets here.

“It should be something we all decide together. I am still willing to try though.” It wasn’t a complete shock to Eskel that Duncan and he shared this. It wasn’t expected for sure, but he knew Duncan held back a certain level of violence. It was always there, barely settled silt beneath the still surface of the water. If you stirred the waters too much they would become muddy. He couldn’t say he had expected that Duncan would have expressed his violence by taking what he wanted in a sexual way though. 

Geralt nodded his head quietly in Eskel’s hold, then must have found his voice again. “Me too.” The silence dragged on and Eskel waited for the orks to weigh in.

***

"What the _fuck_ are the odds of us ending up together, all of us sharing that kind of thing." Duncan barked a short laugh, shook his head. He tried to imagine himself in Eskel's place, with Rhys having no memory of him, and he could very easily see himself do something like it.

"I won't be around when you do this. I can't and won't take part in this, but I don't have a problem with knowing that you do play with it. And you are much better prepared that Rhys and I were when we tried this." Breathing in, he was still for a moment before letting the air out with a long sigh. "I know you all will be careful. I trust you."

Rhys intertwined his fingers with Duncan's. He caught and held Eskel's gaze while speaking. "Don't think i can't see all the ways in which this can go wrong. Even with us talking about this, even knowing what we know and all of us having been through this. There is no way to make this _safe_ and I know that. It's part of the attraction, to be completely honest."

Hearing the witchers tell their own story had taken Rhys aback, he had not expected this. And he could have understood if they had backed out of this. For a moment, he thought about backing out of this himself, they were not just playing with fire here but they did it standing on a powder keg. This could leave serious emotional scars if it went wrong, even if it wasn't as dramatic as what happened to him and Duncan.

But Rhys couldn't resist. And he truly did think that they were going to be as well prepared as they could be. 

He also knew already that he wanted to cuddle with everyone once they were done talking. Closeness was what he needed, not only from Duncan. He wanted to hold and be held by Geralt and Eskel, let them know that he didn't think in any way less of them. There was no need to talk to Duncan to know that he was feeling the same.

Reaching out to put his hand on top of Eskel's where it rested on Geralt's thigh, Rhys held it there, gave it a squeeze. "If any of us ever has the feeling that things are not going well, we speak up. Not just about this, about anything. We're balancing a lot here and it works well for all of us. And it won't be destroyed by someone saying they are uncomfortable with something. But it will be by keeping silent if that happens."

***

“It does work well for us. And I’ve always wanted to be able to have this.” Geralt gestured all around between them in a circle emphatically. “All the people I love together. No resentment for sharing each other. It gives me everything I have always _needed_ , and it’s never worked before.”

Getting very quiet Geralt scooted down and nestled back into the crooked of Eskel’s armpit whispering just loud enough for them all to hear. “I believe you all love me enough that you would say something rather than lose this.” For the first time since they’d started talk a faint smile spread on Geralt’s mouth.

“This whole thing—as much as it had to happen—has worn me out. I’d like a hug and a cuddle if you two are up for it?” Stretching out one of his arms and Eskel’s with it Geralt invited them in. Eskel scooted down without a word, clearly exhausted as well and wrapped his other arm around Geralt’s waist pulling himself in close. 

A nose brushed against his undercut and Eskel’s lips pressed to his neck briefly. “I’d always say somethin’... for all of us.”

***

Duncan let go of Rhys and waited until Rhys was nestled into Geralt. His head under Geralt's chin, one arm thrown over him, legs pushed between Geralt's and Eskel's.

Taking a little time, Duncan just looked at everyone, appreciating the amount of luck or fate or whatever it had been that had brought them together. And the effort they put into this to keep it working. 

It would never come easy to him to have talks like this, to put into words what he felt. But the years with Rhys has taught him the importance of it and when they fell into their relationship with Eskel and Geralt, he had put what he had learned to use. Talking and negotiating was what kept their web of relationships in order and strong enough for them to let it catch them if they needed to.

He cuddled into Rhys, chest pressed against Rhys' back. One arm curled under Rhys and Geralt so he could pet Geralt's hair, the other stretched out over them. Reaching for Eskel's hand, he intertwined their fingers, traced a thumb over Eskel's palm. Duncan closed his eyes, enjoying the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Notes:  
> Kink Negotiation  
> Mentions of past rape/abuse
> 
> Cover Photo by I.am_nah on Unsplash


	2. Magnificient Monsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“You know, you shouldn’t fight so hard.” Geralt leaned down, fisted Rhys’ hair and pulled his head back hard, forcing Rhys to look at his face. He’d easily made it into a blank facade, one he’d worn for decades on the Path. “It only makes this more fun for me.”_  
>  Rhys and Geralt dive into their first rape play scene, with Eskel watching.

Dimeritium shackles heavy in his hand Geralt tiptoed up the stairs from the Rosemary & Thyme’s basement. Eskel was down there waiting. The room was already set. A dingy cot for Eskel, and a couple of old bedrolls tossed on the stone floor. A heavy chain looped around the support beam that reached up to the ceiling from the center of the floor. It was dark and dank; smelt of spilt wine and old cheese. It was perfect.

With each silent step Geralt went over his instructions in his head. Take Rhys. Bring Rhys downstairs. This was the only part where Eskel was not going to be watching him like a hawk and it made Geralt nervous but he was going to do _exactly_ as Eskel ordered him.

Take out Rhys’ magic first, and keep it out. That’s what the shackles were for. He went over the things he’d been ordered not to do under any circumstances. Not to make Rhys bleed. Not to touch his throat or choke him with his hands. Not to spit on him. 

Rhys had requested that if Geralt slapped his face he limit it to only once so as not to risk enraging him, but Geralt had passed. Getting slapped in the face was something Geralt never wanted to experience, nor did he wish to offer it to someone else.

Turning the last corner the door came into sight and Geralt slowed even more. The room right next to the Ruby Room. Focusing he listened and could hear Rhys moving around inside. They’d told Rhys he could even lock the door while waiting.

When he finally made his move, Geralt made it fast. Aard to the door sent it flying inward, rocking on its hinges, the lock busted and skidding across the floor. Dropping Yrden on the floor, the runes glowed purple in a large circle, encompassing Rhys and the door. It might not be as strong as Eskel’s, but it was just as effective at silencing Rhys’ hands.

Wasting no time and knowing he would need a minute before he could use another sign, Geralt kept his momentum going. He dove right for Rhys’ feet, rolling to cushion his landing and turning himself into a ball to knock Rhys over. 

They landed in a pile of tangled limbs and Rhys’ screams. Unable to move even half as fast as normal under the effects of the Yrden, Rhys tried to fight back but it came out sluggish and slow.

With a handful of his hair in Rhys’ hand and Rhys pulling hard, Geralt swung his body around dropping his weight in the middle of Rhys’ gut. It knocked the air right out of Rhys and Geralt sat backwards on him. Geralt pinned the hand grabbing his hair between his thigh and elbow, digging the point of it into Rhys’ forearm while he fixed one side of the shackles on.

Knee and shin pinning Rhys’ other hand down Geralt ground his elbow in harder until Rhys let go of his hair with a pained cry.

Geralt stood up, holding the other side of the shackles and shoved the toe of his boot under Rhys’ hip. With a kick he flipped Rhys over onto his stomach. Face down, Rhys tried to crawl to the edge of the Yrden that was slowly flickering out of life, shrinking ever smaller. Geralt planted a foot on Rhys’ back and let out a dry laugh.

Dropping to one knee, the other boot still holding Rhys down with a very calculated amount of strength— _don’ break anythin’ on ‘im_ , Eskel’s words echoed in his head—Geralt grabbed Rhys other arm and wrenched it down. Screwing the bolt on the other shackle shut Geralt kept laughing. Raspy and without any real mirth, it was a cold emotionless laugh.

“You know, you shouldn’t fight so hard.” Geralt leaned down, fisted Rhys’ hair and pulled his head back hard, forcing Rhys to look at his face. He’d easily made it into a blank facade, one he’d worn for decades on the Path. “It only makes this more fun for me.”

***

With Geralt's weight still on top of him, Rhys couldn't get enough breath for a reply. His own heart beat was loud and fast in his ears, fear curling icy cold in his stomach. When he had seen and talked to Geralt downstairs, he had seemed nice enough, not at all like Rhys had imagined a witcher from what people told him. There had been some disappointment on Geralt's face when Rhys had excused himself after a while but _nothing_ that had warned Rhys this might happen.

His magic was gone. He couldn't cast a spell, couldn't conjure a spirit, couldn't even slip away on the astral plane. And Bear was gone. The connection was severed. A void where his mentor spirit's presence used to be. Rhys' strength and determination leaked out into the void by the second, replaced with terror.

The purple runes winked out of existence and Rhys writhed in Geralt's grip, arched his whole body in an effort to throw him off. If he could get up, he could run. He just needed to get downstairs.

Momentarily unseating Geralt, Rhys kicked with all his strength. Twisting his neck painfully hard, he tried to bite, aiming for Geralt's neck. Geralt's grip on his hair stopped him short, fangs and tusks slicing at thin air less than an inch in front of Geralt's face.

***

Thumb and pinky finger curling down Geralt brought up his Quen. Let the fucking ork bite him now. Hauling Rhys up by his waistband and the shackles Geralt half tossed him on the bed. He landed with his upper body on it, knees landing with a painful thud on the floor.

Shoving a boot between Rhys’ knees, Geralt pressed his own knee hard into Rhys ass, planting the heel of his hand between Rhys’ shoulder blades to hold him down. With the other hand he undid the buckle of his belt. He’d left his trophy hook off, and hadn’t brought any bombs so it served no real purpose.

Rhys’ heartbeat sped rapidly at the sound of the buckle and the slide of the leather. Struggling under Geralt’s hand with a suddenly renewed vigor. Switching the heel of his hand to the corner of his elbow Geralt leaned into it with his weight and took hold of the buckle of the belt. 

When Rhys bucked to bite at him again Geralt abruptly brought the leather down in front of him, catching it in his mouth and pulling it tight. He let Rhys fight it, unable to push the makeshift gag out of his mouth while Geralt held the ends tight behind him. Threading the tip through the buckle Geralt cinched it up, bending the leather back on itself and tucking it underneath twice to secure it.

Rhys was breathing hard, panting harshly through his nose and behind the thick leather of the belt. “Now,” Geralt eased up on his elbow a bit, “I’ve been _nice_. No fire, no blades, not even a scratch on your pretty little face.” There was a sickly sweet tone to it. A sense of entitlement. 

Because really, Geralt _had_ held back. No potions, no dimeritium bomb, no Axii. It would have been easy to come take Rhys if the limitations were removed. But that wasn’t what this was about.

“You can come nicely—quietly—with me, down the stairs. I might take this belt off later. Or you can pay for being an asshole when we get there. Your call, pointy ears.” Without another thought Geralt pulled Rhys back by the shackles, crouched and hefted him head first over his shoulder; both arms wrapped solid around Rhys’ legs, one over the back of his thighs and one on his calves, to prevent too much kicking. The Quen still glowed golden around him as he headed for the door.

***

The part of Rhys that only watched perked up at the threat. The other part knew well enough that once they were wherever the witcher wanted to take him, there would be much less chance of escape. 

He couldn't scream for help now and even if he did, who would step in to save an ork, little better than a monster in the eyes of many, from a witcher just doing his job. 

There still was no magic, nothing happened when he concentrated on casting a spell. His connection to Bear had reappeared once the runes were gone but it seemed fragile and weak. Rhys could have fled to astral space, leaving his body behind and wait it out, but he wasn't quite ready to do that yet.

So he twisted his upper body to the side, ignoring the thrill of fear at the hard fall he might take. Kicked at the same time, as hard as he could, to unbalance Geralt and loosen his grip.

***

Fleetingly, the thought of tightening his grip and correcting his balance crossed Geralt’s mind. In a second it was gone, and he relaxed his hold, instead freeing a hand to draw a new Yrden. If Rhys wanted to fight he could take the consequences. At least Geralt hoped he could or Eskel was going to be pissed that he’d actually hurt Rhys.

There was a muffled noise as Quen transferred some of the pain of the struggle to Rhys. Geralt was reminded briefly that he felt quite a bit less pain than others, he hadn’t noticed anything at all, but Rhys surely felt something. With a heavy thunk almost two hundred pounds of ork landed hard on the floor.

A slow dazed groan trickled out from behind the belt. Propelling himself slowly with his feet Rhys tried to crawl through the door, strength and speed sapped by the Sign.

Geralt crouched down staring Rhys in the eyes. Face blank and unreadable. “You know what witchers do? We hunt monsters. Kill them. Cut off their heads, put them on a hook and get paid for it.” Rhys’ slow slide across the floor continued. “I’ve been a witcher for almost a century. I’m the best there is. You won’t escape me, but you can exhaust yourself trying.” Geralt smiled, pleased with himself. “I can do this to you over and over again. Whenever I want.”

Scooping Rhys back up, Geralt slung him over his shoulder again. Moving inside the Yrden was no problem for him but Rhys’ body hung limply over him this time, all the energy wrung out of him. Geralt stepped out of the door and started down the stairs. He didn’t notice much difference in Rhys’ body when he stepped out of the Yrden.

The stairs wound down into the basement. Not many knew it was there and Geralt shouldered the door open to see Eskel pretending to sleep on the cot, back to the door.

“Hey, wake up. I found myself some entertainment since you weren’t in the mood.” Geralt kicked the door shut behind himself. “Make yourself useful, Yrden the floor for me? I need to lock the door, he’s a fighter.”

Rolling over and sitting up Eskel rubbed his face, throwing his own Yrden on the floor around the support beam. The runes glowed in stark violet on the floor, brighter than Geralt’s had, the circle wider.

Squatting on the floor Geralt let Rhys fall from his shoulder again, forcing another pained groan from him, though the distance wasn’t nearly as far. Without so much as a second glance he returned to the basement door to lock it.

Geralt caught Eskel looking Rhys over when he walked back. “ _This_ is what you found for entertainment? You’re fucked up, Geralt. Shoulda known you wouldn’t try to find someone who actually _wanted_ to fuck. You like the struggle too much. You’re on your own with this one.” Eskel stared at the motionless ork—wide eyed, and unable to move at all in the stronger Yrden—for a moment before returning to the cot to sit.

***

There was fleeting relief when Rhys saw the second witcher but it was crushed the moment he trapped Rhys in his runes. The force of them took all strength from Rhys and cut clean through his connection to Bear, opening the void in his mind again.

The belt in his mouth and the pressure of the runes were suffocating and Rhys gasped for air, panic making his breathing quick and shallow and his pulse race. He couldn't keep from whimpering when Geralt grabbed him and roughly dragged him across the floor. 

Turned over on his stomach, Rhys heard the clanking of chains and a heavy weight pulled on his shackled wrists. With both hands under Rhys' arms, Geralt heaved him up and sat him against the beam, squatting between Rhys' spread legs.

From what the other witcher had said, Rhys gathered that he was not here because someone had put out a contract on him. It wasn't much of a relief. Looking into Geralt's cold eyes, Rhys had no problems believing that he'd rape Rhys first and then kill him, maybe sell the trophy to someone. 

The Yrden kept Rhys from flinching when Geralt reached up to touch his face, fingers tipping Rhys' head back, exposing his throat. He grabbed Rhys' chin and forced him to look over at the other witcher. 

"Don't think that Eskel will help you. We've been together for a long time, he knows what I like. And you're tonight's entertainment, that's all." Geralt smiled and there was amused cruelty in it, making his eyes gleam.

When he let go, Rhys slumped against the beam. The glow of the runes was flickering and he had a little strength return to his limbs, enough to keep himself upright. But not enough to fight or struggle when Geralt tore at his shirt. The fabric ripped open and fell away to the sides, the air of the basement cold against Rhys' skin.

Geralt ran a finger down Rhys' chest, drawing another whimper from him. "Such white skin, I bet you bruise nicely."

He curled his hand into a claw and left red marks running down from Rhys' neck down to his navel, dragging his fingers slowly over the skin. Rhys bit down on the belt at the touch. It hurt but that he could deal with. What made him want to scream was being helpless, having to take whatever Geralt wanted to do to him.

Rhys squeezed his eyes shut when Geralt moved further down, removing Rhys' boots and letting his hands wander up again, tugging at the laces of Rhys' pants. Fingers grabbed and squeezed Rhys' chin again.

"Look at me. You don't get to close your eyes or turn away. Do you understand?" Geralt gave a hard pinch to Rhys' nipple, twisting it.

With a nod, Rhys opened his eyes again. He forced himself to hold Geralt's gaze even when Geralt reached down, hand cupping Rhys' crotch and giving it a squeeze. Not hard. But Rhys understood only too well. _This is mine and there is nothing you can do about it._

Rhys shuddered.

***

The tremor that ran through Rhys body was palpable. Even if he weren’t a witcher Geralt would hazard a guess he would have felt it. The thrill of frightening Rhys sank deep into Geralt’s groin and his cock twitched at the realization of how much power he really held over the ork. Geralt listened to Rhys’ heartbeat surge in his chest, tugging open the front of Rhys’ pants to untie his braies next. 

Hands sliding inside Rhys braies in the back, Geralt crouched over Rhys’ legs. Squeezing a handful of ass with one hand, Geralt used the other to bring one side down, exposing Rhys’ ass to the cold hard floor. Then he did the same with the other, this time getting a good handful of the other side of Rhys’ ass. The runes blinked out of existence and Geralt stepped back to admire Rhys from a few steps away.

“Where’s all that pretty fight now, pointy ears? I liked it.” Unbuckling his armor nonchalantly, Geralt removed his pauldrons, followed by the rest of the leather and chainmail armor on his upper body. Lastly he lifted the quilted gambeson underneath over his head to reveal a torso littered in scars. 

Running a hand down his chest, hooking a thumb in the waist of his leathers, Geralt splayed his long calloused fingers over his confined cock. Rhys’ eyes were still fixed on his chest and a predatory smirk played on Geralt’s face. “You like them? Every one of them is from from a monster, like you, who thought they could best me. Guess which one of us is still here?” 

A toneless laugh rolled out of Geralt at the sight of Rhys, staring back and trying to hide his horror. Bare chest already starting to show his marks, the trails glowed bright red where his fingernails had made a path. Cock wilted between his legs, pants around his knees still. Nostrils flaring with fear and adrenaline as he tried to heave in air with the belt jammed in his mouth.

Geralt decided to leave the pants where they were for now, they would only serve to tangle Rhys' feet and make it harder for him to kick. It wasn’t like he needed Rhys’ legs open right away. That could come later.

Untying his own leathers and kicking off his boots Geralt strode over to the cot. He bent down to kiss Eskel on the mouth, and Eskel nuzzled his neck in return. “‘S fine, jus’ don’ break your new toy.” It was a quiet whisper against his neck but it was a welcome reassurance that he wasn’t pushing too hard.

Taking his leathers and braies the rest of the way off Geralt watched with interest as Eskel rose from the bed and walked over, crouching to the side of Rhys. Even with enhanced hearing he could barely pick up Eskel’s words, but saw a hand cradling Rhys’ jaw. Eskel leaning his temple against Rhys’ while he spoke briefly. 

A sluggish nod from Rhys must have appeased whatever Eskel needed to know because he stood up and looked down on Rhys coldly. “He’s gonna enjoy himself. You might as well too, ‘cause if by some stroke of luck you manage to hurt him, I’ll kill you. An’ then he’ll heal anyway. It’d only be a waste.”

Eskel was laying down on the cot, picking up a book, when Geralt approached Rhys again. Fully naked muscles and scars all on display, Geralt’s cock was stirring at the sounds of fear—hurried breaths drawn harshly and a heart tripping over itself. Getting right up in Rhys’ space, cock at eye level for a moment before he straddled Rhys’ lap and lowered himself to sit on Rhys’ thighs.

There would be no going anywhere with that much witcher weighing him down and Geralt knew it. He grabbed the beam behind Rhys and rolled his hips, grinding himself up against Rhys’ soft cock. Putting his face against Rhys’ neck Geralt took a heady sniff, the acrid smell of fear, the slightest trace hint of arousal underneath it. Opening his mouth Geralt set his teeth against Rhys skin and sunk them in. 

The cry from behind the makeshift gag was music to Geralt’s ears, making his cock twitch, vibrating through his teeth from Rhys’ throat. Biting just shy of hard enough to break the skin, but more than hard enough to leave dents from his teeth, Geralt pulled back to lick over it. He could see the red dots bloom where there would surely be a semicircle of bruises to match his teeth.

“Come on, fight me. Or do you like it when I do this to you?” Just for emphasis Geralt rolled his hips against Rhys, rubbing his hard cock against Rhys softer one, arms still pinning Rhys to the beam.

***

Rhys only wanted to close his eyes and wait for it all to be over. He couldn't fight and the witcher knew it. But Rhys kept waiting for a chance, however small. He would not make this easy.

Even with the Yrden extinguished, the dark void in Rhys' mind where his mentor used to be didn't close. What if the connection had been severed for good? He shoved the thought away but a sudden stab of incredible loneliness pierced his heart, worse than anything the witcher had done to him or could do to him. 

Focusing on his anger to keep the desperation at bay, Rhys snarled at Geralt. At least he tried to. It turned into a muffled gasp when Geralt reached down and took them both in hand, stroking their cocks together. 

His other hand curling in Rhys' hair, pulling his head back painfully far, Geralt placed another bite on Rhys' neck. He only let go when Rhys cried out behind the gag, bit down immediately on another spot.

Rhys was glad of the pain. Geralt grinding into him, fingers circling their cocks, was drawing pleasure from his body. The pain served to cancel it out. 

But it was not enough. Pleasure coiled warm in Rhys' groin, his cock hardening against Geralt's. All the fear and pain and helplessness didn't change a thing about how good it felt. Couldn't keep Rhys from moaning when Geralt touched him just right, pulled the foreskin down to reveal the sensitive head.

***

The images running through Geralt’s head were obscene. He fucked his cock up against Rhys’, the rough friction of it only turning him on more. He didn’t need oil, wouldn’t need it. Rhys hadn’t earned it, he had fought and Geralt had already decided he’d lost that privilege. If Rhys wanted something to ease the way he could spit.

Twitching and thickening against Geralt’s as he teased the head, Rhys’ cock couldn’t help but be aroused when Geralt swirled his thumb around the tip. Working it just right to force a reluctant groan from Rhys. Geralt wanted to suck it, feel it throb against his tongue, and hear Rhys’ frustrated cry in his ears when his own body betrayed him.

Leaning his mouth right up by Rhys’ ear Geralt spoke low, words timed with the twist of his hand on their cocks. Utterly patronizing. “You’re _enjoying_ this aren’t you? Somewhere deep down inside when you saw me up there, talked to me, you knew. You _wanted_ me to come take you.”

Licking a stripe up to the tip of Rhys’ ear Geralt bit down taking the whole pointed tip into his mouth, running his tongue teasingly over the edge in his mouth without letting it go. When he finally did, pulling back he could see a neat little row of dents from his teeth. “Let’s see if you like my fingers in your ass as much as you like them on your cock.”

Geralt grabbed the beam and pulled himself up in one smooth movement, cock bobbing in front of Rhys’ face. Taking it in his hand Geralt laughed and tapped it against Rhys’ cheek a few times for emphasis. Drew the head of it across Rhys' skin and sighed at the smoothness of it against his sensitive tip. It left a slick trail of precum along Rhys’ jaw.

Rummaging in his saddle bags on the floor Geralt pulled out a small glass vial of oil. Squatting over Rhys’ legs again, he displayed it in front of Rhys’ eyes with a grin. They were wide with fear. “Should I be nice and let you have some oil to ease the way when you take my fingers?”

There was no hesitation, only a slow nod and a muffled, “-awease.”

Face falling into a scowl Geralt threw the vial hard to the side, shattering it against the stone wall, watching as Rhys’ eyes followed it.

“Well you shouldn’t have been such an asshole upstairs then.” There was no laugh this time. Geralt reached forward to undo the belt. Rhys still stared at the wall behind them where no doubt the oil was dripping down the stones.

Snapping his fingers in front of Rhys to bring his attention back, Geralt spoke with a flat affect holding up two fingers between them. “If you want it easier you can suck them first. I wouldn’t recommend trying to bite or I’ll open you up with nothing at all.” 

Rubbing his fingers over the head of his cock, Geralt smeared his own precum on them, giving Rhys a malicious smirk. “Here, I’ll even give you something to savor.”

***

For a moment, Rhys had been tempted to bite, sink tusks and fangs into Geralt's arm. The rage underneath the fear had screamed for it, no matter the consequences. In the end, fear won.

He couldn't bring himself to open his mouth for Geralt's fingers. The salty musk of Geralt's precum was strong in his nose already, he didn't want to taste it. Fisting a hand in Rhys' hair, Geralt pulled Rhys' head back while forcing the fingers into his mouth.

Rhys couldn't help gagging at the taste, at the fingers pressing down on his tongue and thrusting deep into his mouth. The belt had kept him from swallowing properly and he hastily licked and sucked at Geralt's fingers to slick them up. There was no doubt in his mind that Geralt would give him no other lube, would savor making this painful.

Despite that, his cock twitched when Rhys imagined Geralt's fingers pushing into him, fucking him. Rhys gave a moan that had nothing to do with Geralt's fingers nudging the back of his throat, nothing with the painful grip Geralt had on his hair, and everything with his body betraying him. 

He did _not_ want this. No matter how hard Geralt's touch made him, even if Geralt made him come. He did _not_.

His legs fell open when Geralt reached down between them.

***

Ignoring Rhys’ now fully erect cock and balls Geralt hooked his other arm behind one of Rhys’ knees and pulled hard, bringing his ass forward. His fingers slick with Rhys’ spit found the tight ring of muscle guarding Rhys’ hole and without any ceremony Geralt pressed one in up to his second knuckle.

Growling at the piteous noise it forced from Rhys’ throat Geralt withdrew it and pressed it back in, deeper this time, all the way to the knuckles of his hand. Rhys cock jerked between his legs and Geralt slapped it hard with his other hand. “Look at you. Hard and leaking. You fucking _love_ this don’t you?” Another slap punctuated his question and drew a moan from Rhys.

Rhys’ ass clamped down on his finger and Geralt crooked it, seeking out that spot inside, the bundle of nerves, that would make Rhys come, even if he didn’t want to. Another slap to that hard hot cock drew an aroused sound from both of them, and Geralt leaned down to lick a dribble of precum from the tip just as his finger found its mark.

Trapping one of Rhys’ balls tightly in the corner of his sac Geralt engulfed it in his mouth and sucked on it roughly. At the same time he pushed his second finger into Rhys. Fucking it in and out, pressing it into that bundle of nerves unerringly.

***

The humiliation churned in Rhys' chest, rising hot until it choked him. The witcher's mouth on his cock made him jerk his hips and then Geralt pressed down on Rhys' prostate, making him buck again, much harder.

Every thrust into him brought a burning pain, spread him open by force. It also brought intense waves of pleasure running over him, making him shudder and moan. He moved into the thrusts without meaning to, taking Geralt even deeper. He whimpered at the thought of taking Geralt's cock that way and couldn't even tell if it was in fear or lust.

Rhys downright hoped Geralt would slap his cock again, hurt him. Pain he could handle, he knew how to do that. But the pleasure Geralt's fingers drew from him, it ate away at his defenses. Clenching his jaw, Rhys repeated to himself that he did not want this. That he wanted it to stop.

"Please, don't-- please stop-" Rhys' voice was only a mumble, hoarse with pain even in his own ears.

***

The faint mumble was loud in Geralt’s ears, piercing through his arousal and making him question his actions for just a moment. Then his senses overwhelmed him, the smell of Rhys’ fear, acrid sweat and breath, body chemicals thrown off balance by hyperventilation. Laced throughout it though was _arousal_. Desire. Want. The bitter salt of Rhys’ excitement licking at the air around him.

Geralt curled his lip, sneering at Rhys and sniffing the air lewdly. “Why would I stop something your body so clearly wants from me.” Circling his fingers deep over Rhys sweet spot Geralt was relentless, not stopping until Rhys cried out. Then he started thrusting them in and out again. “ Don’t lie to me and tell you’re not getting off on this. I can _smell_ how much it turns you on, even if your cock wasn’t aching for it.”

“I don’t-” Rhys’ protest was cut off by Geralt’s snarl. Dragging him down the post and flipping him over roughly, Geralt left him cheek to the cold stone floor. Flagstones biting into his knees, Rhys ass was in the air, exposed and unprotected, ankles still tangled in his pants. Geralt yanked at them, removing the last of his unripped clothing.

Reaching for the belt he’d discarded nearby Geralt gripped the buckle and brought it down across Rhys’ ass cheeks hard. “DON’T-” another hard strike, “-LIE TO ME!” Rhys had screamed with the first hit and wasn’t done with it when the second landed. Before Geralt could come down for a third a strong arm was wrapped around his, holding him back.

“Hey.” Eskel whispered softly in his ear, “We don’t break our entertainment.” Geralt’s arm fell to his side and he blinked. Rhys was writhing on the floor trying to worm away from him, choking on his panicked and pained breaths. Eskel gently uncurled Geralt’s fingers from the buckle, kissing his ear. 

“I’m sorry, Eskel.”

“‘S alright.” Eskel kissed him and then turned to look at Rhys on the floor. He bent down and ran a hand over the side of Rhys face, looking into the ork's eyes. “You gonna be alright?” The question was voiced softly, and answered with a nod. Removing his hand Eskel remained crouched there, looking at Rhys. “I told you, you should jus’ enjoy it. It woulda been better for you that way.”

Geralt stared blankly at Rhys ass. Two wide red stripes were already forming where he’d hit him. He wanted to feel bad, but he couldn’t. Letting that rage out for a moment had felt _good_. Intoxicatingly so.

Jostled out of his reverie by Eskel’s voice Geralt looked up to see Eskel removing his own belt. “I have a better use for these.” Helping Geralt manhandle Rhys, Eskel looped each one of their belts around Rhys’ upper thigh and the corresponding ankle, then tightened them down to hold Rhys legs in a frogtie position.

Forcing Rhys to kneel again, Eskel kissed Geralt on the mouth, “Now you can bend him back over, and spank him with your hand this way. No lasting scars, in case he pleases you enough you decided to keep him for a while.”

Geralt smiled. Tipping Rhys back down so his head rested against the stones again, his knees supported his chest, and his ass _was_ very nicely displayed. Kneeling behind him and running a hand over Rhys’ ass Geralt could feel the heat where the belt had landed. Slipping a finger in to tease Rhys' prostate, Geralt removed it after a few thrusts and landed his first blow on Rhys’ ass, watching the waves of pressure ripple through it. Perfect. And then another. Soon he was enthralled, unable to stop himself as he spanked Rhys again and again.

***

The hits with the belt had left Rhys shaken. The pain had exploded in him and had driven every thought out of his mind. What had been left was a moment of unbridled rage, hands pulling at the shackles, teeth bared in a silent snarl. Eskel had already been on his feet and had given Rhys the time he needed to be in control of himself again.

When Eskel checked in with him, Rhys had already settled back into the scene again, the rage flowing into his persona's fear, feeding it. 

He didn't fight when the witchers tied his legs. Geralt's outbreak had shown him that he had a better chance at making it through this if he complied. _just let it all happen, it could be so much worse_ Their calloused hands all over his body and on his skin, moving him around at will, made him shiver. 

Eskel's words stuck in his mind. _in case he pleases you enough you decided to keep him for a while._ How would they even do that, it was not like they could keep him locked up here. But he realized that no one would bat an eye at them keeping him on a chain, tied to the saddle of Geralt's horse. And once they were out of the city, they could do whatever they wanted anyway.

It was difficult to breathe with his chest forced against his knees and he had to balance his upper body so he could fill his lungs. The belts pressed into his skin and the stones under him were cold and hard, leaving him no way to find an even remotely comfortable position.

Geralt's hand on his ass made him flinch. The finger invading him forced a moan from him that turned into a cry when Geralt hit him again. One blow after the other, with no pause for Rhys to recover, to let the pain ebb away. 

His breath caught in his throat. Rhys grasped at the chain between the shackles, held on to it, pressing the links into his palms. Squeezing his eyes shut, he struggled to hold back tears. 

Pain, humiliation and fear tore at him. Slashed his composure into tatters. Geralt landed another blow on his ass and Rhys cried out. Sucked down air and let it out in a sob. Geralt's hand gripped his ass, squeezed it hard. Hit it again. Pain won out over everything else. It devoured what little hold on himself Rhys still had and tears came in its wake.

Rhys fought to keep them silent. He failed, and a loud anguished howl broke out of him.

Geralt finally stopped. Rhys couldn't. The sobs kept shaking his whole body and there was nothing he could do.

Hands grabbed him and flipped him over, the shackles digging hard into his back. Rhys forced himself to look up at Geralt, scared of being punished more if he didn't. The witcher's face betrayed no emotion as he watched Rhys cry.

***

If Geralt had thought he liked it when Rhys fought him it didn’t hold the last candle in a church to Rhys’ tears. The sight of Rhys’ body jerking with fitful sobs, tears rolling down his face, fear showing just a little too much of the whites of his eyes, made Geralt’s body run hot and cold all at once.

Raging desire welled up in his gut and Geralt dropped to his knees on the solid stone floor, not even registering the pain. Unable to look away from the spectacle of Rhys below him Geralt stroked himself swiftly, cock throbbing in his hand. Pleasure peaking, Geralt felt his balls tightening.

“Open you mouth.” It was a feral growl of words and it only made Rhys choke on his own tears. Geralt pressed his forefinger to Rhys’ chin. Pushing it down, he put the pad of his thumb under Rhys nose, putting pressure on the sensitive point there while holding his chin down until Rhys had no choice but to comply.

Rhys’ cries gurgled in his mouth with it forced open. “Fuck. Yes. Oh-” Geralt’s words where breathy, cut short by his orgasm barreling through him. “-Shit.” Face screwed up in ecstasy Geralt’s breath stuttered, stopping and starting in harsh pants as his cum striped Rhys face, landing in his mouth, across his cheek, dripping down off his earlobe.

Gagging, Rhys tried to turn his head to the side and spit, but Geralt clamped his mouth shut. Laughing almost giddy at Rhys covered in his seed. “It looks good on you. Swallow.”

Once Rhys had managed to work it down his throat after several tries to do so without retching Geralt patted his cheek. Getting down on his hands Geralt wiped up the cum cooling there, gathering what was on Rhys’ cheek and whispering in Rhys ear. “You know, I was gonna fuck you ass, but your pretty face made me loose it and now I’m soft.” 

The sniffle that came out of Rhys almost sounded relieved, _almost_. “But that’s alright, you enjoyed my fingers so much earlier, I’m sure they’ll do. I’m not an asshole after all. I’ll make sure you come too. You looked so good, I’ll even give you something extra to help ease the way.” Holding his fingers up, wet with his own cum, where Rhys could see Geralt sucked his earlobe into his mouth and gave it a nibble.

Rocking back onto his heels Geralt wasted no time in seeking out Rhys’ hole. It clenched around him like a vice when he plunged two cum covered fingers in, and Rhys bucked up. Whether he was trying to seek pleasure or evade it Geralt couldn’t tell and didn’t care. Rhys would come for him, whether he wanted to or not. 

Stroking Rhys’ cock, with a twist of his wrist Geralt wrung more tears from Rhys. Stifled sobs ebbing away into shamefully pleasure moans. Every touch to the tip of Rhys’ cock matched by a circular brush of his prostate. And when Rhys cock started to leak again Geralt bent down and lapped it up, tapping the head against his flat tongue and then swirling it around Rhys sensitive tip.

***

With the taste of Geralt's cum bitter on his tongue, Rhys arched his back and curled his toes as pleasure rushed through him. Geralt touched him just right, his fingers in Rhys' ass hitting exactly the right spot. The pain they brought did nothing to dampen the reaction of Rhys' body to the skillful handling.

Bearing down on Geralt's fingers, Rhys fucked himself, rocked between Geralt's mouth and his fingers. The shackles bit hard into his wrists and his back and he pulled his arms to the side, fingers scrabbling at the stone floor.

If he came, if he gave up that much and let Geralt take this from him, maybe it would be over. Maybe they would let him go. Or maybe they would keep him and Geralt would take whatever he wanted more from Rhys. 

His own body took the choice from him, pleasure coiling tightly in his groin and then coming loose all at once.

***

“Plea-” Rhys might have been about to beg him to stop or to keep going, Geralt didn’t know, but he silenced it by sinking his mouth all the way down on Rhys’ cock. The head bumping into the back of his throat as he played his fingers over Rhys’ prostate easily. Rhys whimpered and cried out meekly, filling his mouth with warm cum and Geralt swallowed it all. The heady taste of victory.

Rhys slumped back onto the stones and Geralt slowly let his cock fall from his mouth. Withdrew his fingers from Rhys’ ass. Watching as Rhys chest heaved up and down, slow tears still trickling from his eyes as he stared off into the distance.

With extremely slow precise movements, Geralt crawled up Rhys’ body. Kissed his abdomen, where his ribs met at the bottom of his chest, the middle of his breast bone, one collarbone, then the next. When his head was above Rhys’ Geralt spoke in a hushed tone. “Is it alright if I lay with you?” He could already hear Eskel up and moving. Coming to take care of Rhys no doubt, but Geralt wanted to. He _needed_ to. To show Rhys he wasn’t really that person.

***

Rhys curled up on his side under Geralt, eyes closed. A nod was all he could give as an answer. It seemed to be enough for Geralt who pulled Rhys into his lap while Eskel unlocked the shackles. Their hands on Rhys' body were gentle and warm.

With his hands finally free, Rhys hugged Geralt tightly, wrapped himself around him. Every single part of his body ached and he was so very tired. Safe in Geralt's arms, Rhys zoned out, breathing slowly and letting the fear and anger of his persona ebb away. 

He let Eskel wrap a blanket around him, nuzzling into his hand when Eskel touched his face. Geralt picked Rhys up and carried him upstairs to the Ruby Room, put him down on the bed. Rhys held on to Geralt, he needed to be close to him and to be held.

Moving when Geralt and Eskel gently prodded and tugged him, Rhys let himself be cleaned up. He groaned softly when Eskel touched the huge blooming bruise on his side, hip and shoulder where he had taken the hard fall on the floor in his room, and he took care not to come to lie on his ass. It was sore all over and Rhys was already looking forward to seeing it tomorrow when the bruises would be _spectacular_.

Geralt's ruthlessness and cruelty had been exactly what Rhys had wanted. And he wanted _more_ of it, wanted to play again. But right now, all he wanted was to sleep with both Eskel and Geralt holding him and it was what he got.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Notes:  
> (fake) Abduction  
> Captivity  
> Rape Play  
> Con Non Con


	3. A Lover Comes to Take You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Oh Gods. You two are evil.” A loose groan rolled out of Geralt and his legs fell open to allow them better access._  
>  Eskel pulled away from Rhys’ lips with a grin. A glance at Geralt told him it wasn’t just their skillful hands that were arousing Geralt. “You like it.”  
> Aftercare and lots of slow, soft sex

Rhys stretched luxuriously, blinking himself awake. Eskel was still next to him and Rhys nestled into his chest, dozing a little longer. The door opening woke him for good because it brought Geralt into the room, and some freshly baked bread and warm chicken. The scent of it made Rhys sit up and his stomach growl.

He winced when he put weight on his ass unthinkingly and shifted a bit to find a less painful position. After some shuffling around and rearranging the blankets and cushions, they sat up against the headboard, Rhys sitting between Geralt's legs and leaning into him sideways. Geralt had undressed again and Rhys enjoyed Geralt's warm skin against his own. 

Grabbing a piece of chicken and tearing off some of the bread, Rhys wolfed it down. First ravenous hunger sated, he reached out to trail his fingers over Eskel's arm, placed a kiss on Geralt's neck. 

"Thank you, both of you. That was amazing and everything I wanted." Rhys cocked his head at Eskel, couldn't help but be a little worried about how he had experienced all of this. "How do you feel?"

***

Eskel cocked his head back at Rhys, expression neutral. “Alright, I guess?” Shrugging Eskel rested a hand on Rhys’ knee, rubbing his thumb aimlessly back and forth, “How do _you_ feel? You said it was everything you wanted, an’ that makes me happy that we could give that to you finally.”

While Rhys had slept hard, Eskel had put some thought into how he felt. And he didn’t really feel much, other than he was happy to have fulfilled Rhys’ desires safely. Geralt had confided that he’d enjoyed it _immensely_ and that also fueled Eskel’s sense of satisfaction. Actually watching the two of them play out such an aggressive and violent scene had done absolutely nothing for him though. It wasn’t arousing in any way and for that Eskel was glad.

It was a fear of his somewhere, hidden in the back of his mind, even if he hadn’t voiced it out loud or admitted it to himself, that he would find that kind of brutal violation sexually arousing. That maybe he was the kind of man who could get off on that after all. He’d certainly made some terrible choices before after all. So to have watched it all and felt no interest was a relief in a way.

Squeezing Rhys gently Geralt smiled and gave a kiss to his neck. “Thank you, for letting me do that. For trusting us both enough to try this together. It was, actually, really, _really_ , incredible for me. Very empowering to let that side of myself out for a bit, and to know you wanted it even if you acted like you didn’t.”

“I sort of don’t want to let you go now though.” Geralt laughed quietly. Looked over at Eskel while leaning his forehead into Rhys’ neck. “I feel very, I don’t know, attached to and protective of you right now.”

***

Rhys picked up a piece of bread to nibble on, eating less out of hunger than out of enjoyment. "That's fine with me. I want to be held and protected for a bit. It helps getting my head out of that space I was in." 

Nestling even closer into Geralt, Rhys squeezed him back. "I _enjoyed_ letting you do all that and seeing that side of you. And it makes me happy that I can give you something that's so good for you, I love that." He gave a quiet laugh, thinking back to how all out their fight and their sex had been. "We really fed off each other there, it was perfect."

But Eskel, Eskel worried him. He seemed --muted. Rhys reached out to take his hand, intertwined their fingers. "Maybe I am worrying over nothing and maybe it's because I'm coming down off a high from that scene, but I get the feeling something is bothering you. I would like very much to play like this again, but if you are not completely comfortable with it, please tell me. My pleasure isn't worth making you feel uncomfortable."

***

Rhys’ words caught Eskel off guard and he looked at Rhys quizzically. “I don’t think you need to worry ‘bout me?” Giving Rhys’ fingers a soft squeeze Eskel got up on his knees and walked over to kneel in front of Rhys, sandwiching him in between Geralt and himself. “I was a little anxious at how long it took Geralt to get you downstairs, but then when he got you there, you seemed good. Very good, when I checked in on you.”

“Once you were both in the room with me, I felt a lot better. An’ then I could control things like I needed to, make sure you were both safe. Right now, I feel really satisfied, ‘cause I was able to give you somethin’ you’ve craved an’ not been able to get, an’ it made Geralt feel really good.” Eskel smiled at Geralt over Rhys’ shoulder, reaching out to pull him in by the neck and rest his forehead against Geralt’s for a moment.

“I mean, watchin’ it from the outside, it did look as violent an’ awful as you said it might. But it’s not like it turned me on or anythin’ creepy like that. An’ I didn’t mind tossin’ a few threats your way, ‘cause they were things I know I would _never_ say to you.” Eskel shrugged again, still not really sure why Rhys seemed concerned about him. He wasn’t the one covered in bruises and he didn’t think he would mind watching over them again, it had been so good for both of them.

***

Rhys rescued the plate with what was left of the chicken from tipping over and placed it on the nightstand before turning in Geralt's arms to face Eskel. He reached out to brush a strand of hair out of Eskel's face.

"Why would it be creepy if you got turned on by it?" He had _known_ something was up and this was important, especially if they wanted to continue playing. "It's meant to be exciting, in the end. The violence and the humiliation is not real and we all know it. Neither of us wants this to happen for real, but in that situation, it's incredibly hot. Geralt and I get turned on by it and that's perfectly fine, so why would it be creepy if _you_ got turned on by it?"

Tracing his thumb over the scars from the corner of Eskel's mouth to his cheek, Rhys cupped his face in his palm. "Maybe this will never be something that you like. People are different. But people also change in what they like and not like and I don't want you to be ashamed of anything, ever." He tipped his head back to catch Geralt's gaze, a short moment of unspoken communication. " _We_ don't want that for you."

***

Dumbfounded for a moment Eskel tried to think of exactly why it would be creepy for him to be aroused by watching something so sexually violent. He wanted to turn and sit, lean against Rhys and be held, but he didn’t want to push on anything sore, so he settled for holding Rhys’ hand against his face. The warm comfort against his scars settling him, grounding him and reminding him that Rhys always had his best interest in mind when they talked like this.

Geralt was watching him closely now, tiny furrow between his brows. It was different that they were turned on by this, it was their fantasy, not his. “I guess it would bother me because it would make me wonder if it meant that kind of intimate violence was something I desired for real? I don’t know, it’s different for me, than for you.”

Sighing Eskel turned his face to kiss Rhys’ hand. “Don’ misunderstand me. I know it’s not real, an’ I know neither of you would ever want those things to happen to you. It’s a fantasy an’ it gives you control over the situation. In a way maybe you never had before.”

“Do you think that because I acted out attacking Rhys, and got off hard on it, that it means I would enjoy doing that for real to a stranger?” Geralt’s question came calmly from behind Rhys, tiny furrow still pitting his brow and Eskel was _horrified_.

“Fuck Melitele, NO! Geralt, I-” Eskel’s face fell, sickened by the thought, his hand dropping as he rose back up on his knees in protest. 

But Geralt cut him off, pinched face fading away. “Then why would you think that if you were turned on by watching it, or even Gods forbid joining in a little if you ever got to that point, that it would mean that of you?”

Swallowing hard Eskel sat back on his heels, looked down at his hands and really pondered Geralt’s point. Was it really any different? Was there anything separating him and Geralt that made it less okay for him to feel an interest in something like this? “I don’t know. Maybe because I feel like I have crossed that line with you before?” Raising his eyes, Eskel peered at Geralt from under his eyebrows.

Geralt nodded and leaned forward, resting his chin on Rhys’ shoulder, reaching out to take Eskel’s hands in his own around Rhys. “We’ve dealt with that, and it’ll always be with us, even in this. But that was never violent, you aren’t that way any more than I am. But Rhys is right, this is meant to be hot, and I think you might find it very much so if we play like this some more. Especially if I do the things I want too. And I want you to know I wouldn’t judge you for that at all. Any more than you judge us. It might give you a sense of control over the situation that you have never felt before either. That’s all.”

Unable to stop himself any more Eskel turned around and as carefully as possibly leaned back against Rhys, who in turn leaned back against Geralt, whose arms settled around Rhys pulling them back toward the bed frame. Rhys’ arms came up around Eskel’s waist and Eskel let out a soft noise of contentment. “You two honestly don’t think I should be ashamed of it if it does end up turning me on, even knowing what you know about me?”

“Especially knowing all I know about you.” Geralt’s voice was solid behind him and brooked no argument. But Eskel still wanted to hear Rhys’ reassurance too.

***

Not caring about his bruises, Rhys pulled Eskel close and wrapped him in his embrace. He nosed against Eskel's neck, kissed his jaw right below the ear. 

"There's nothing wrong with you, whether you end up enjoying that kind of play or not. If you ever decide to join us in such a scene, I would very much like that. But it's entirely your decision. And I appreciate it very much that you are willing to watch out for Geralt and me and keep us safe." Rhys trailed his fingers over Eskel's stomach, mapping out the scars there.

He didn't much want to say what he had to say now, but since they were talking like this, it seemed a good moment. "And I'm glad you were there because I had one moment of almost losing it. After the belt. That took me so much by surprise. You made sure I had the time I needed to get myself under control again. I wouldn't have been able to do much with the shackles, and you could have used Yrden to control me, but it's good this didn't go any further."

Tipping his head back onto Geralt's shoulder, Rhys curled his fingers into Geralt's hair, tugging gently at it. "As it was, it made the whole fantasy only better for me. We both caught ourselves, with a little help. Our system works. And I really would love to play again. See what happens when you decide to keep your evening's entertainment around for a while longer."

***

Wincing, Geralt turned his face into Rhys’ hand. “I’m sorry, I’m still not exactly sure what came over me there. It was there and I lost myself for a moment. When Eskel grabbed my arm you were already crawling away from me. I knew I had stepped over some line somewhere, but Eskel seemed to have it under control, so I kept up with the act.”

“I’m glad it worked into your fantasy instead of wrecking the whole thing, but it’s why I need Eskel there to watch me. Sometimes I get too lost in my role.” Geralt placed his chin back on Rhys’ shoulder, giving him a light kiss there. He did feel bad now, whereas when it had happened, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to. But he didn’t feel like he’d screwed it up, this was what they had Eskel for after all.

“Mhmm. I kinda thought as much.” Placing his hand over the one Rhys had left on his stomach, Eskel thumbed at it. “I knew as soon as Geralt picked up the belt that I needed to get over there. No offense Geralt, but I don’ think you’ve ever been on the givin’ end of a belting. An’ trust me,” Eskel laughed quietly, oddly more at ease, talking about these things, “it takes practice to make it feel even remotely good.”

“By the time I got to Geralt, you looked wild an’ I figured the best thing I could do was give you a moment to calm down before approachin’ you. Shackles or not, I don’t need to get bitten. An’ yeah I could Yrden you, but I wouldn’t want to unless you absolutely couldn’t get yourself under control. Jus’ make you panic more, an’ drag it out.” Eskel leaned back to look at Rhys. “‘M glad you were able to get it under control on your own.”

It did pique Eskel’s curiosity though, how Rhys had worked past that so quickly. “‘M more’n happy to watch over you two again, after a bit of a break. Even the entertainment’s bruises need to heal, an’ I think a break between playing like this is good for us all. What do you mean it only made your fantasy better though? It jus’ made it more real?”

***

"Yes, that's part of it. I never felt unsafe, but I _could_ tell myself that if I didn't want to get beaten more, I better do my best to give Geralt what he wants. Find that line between struggling and giving in that's required if I want to be let go - or be kept around. I like that kind of story in a scene and you both made it very easy for me to create one." Rhys gave a little shiver at the memory.

His bruises were starting to complain, mostly about Eskel's weight, and Rhys gently extricated himself from between them. "I need to sit a bit differently, I'm sorry." Leaning against the headboard next to Geralt, a soft pillow under his ass, he patted his thighs and Geralt followed the invitation to sprawl across his lap. Eskel came to sit beside Rhys so they could both pet Geralt.

"You don't need to apologize for that moment with the belt. We knew this might happen and our precautions worked exactly as we thought." Winding strands of Geralt's hair around his fingers, Rhys scritched at Geralt's scalp. His other hand wandered over Geralt's chest and stomach, occasionally meeting Eskel's hand there. 

Rhys leaned into Eskel. "I do need a break from playing. But I'm not exactly tired any more." He traced a circle around one of Geralt's nipples and gave it a flick.

***

Stretching one arm around Rhys’ shoulders Eskel leaned back into him. Let his fingers walk a lazy pattern up Geralt’s thigh, over the vee of his hip and along the dips and curves of his abdomen until he found Rhys’ hand again. “No?” Intertwining his fingers with Rhys’, Eskel guided his hand down, around, giving Geralt’s cock a wide berth, in between Geralt’s legs to massage the inside of his thigh. Eskel watched Rhys’ face with a devious smile. “Not tired, huh?” 

Stealing a languid kiss from Rhys, Eskel pressed his thumb into Rhys’ right near a tight cord of muscle on the inside of Geralt’s leg. Massaging Geralt through Rhys almost without a thought Eskel took his time with Rhys’ mouth. 

“Oh Gods. You two are evil.” A loose groan rolled out of Geralt and his legs fell open to allow them better access.

Eskel pulled away from Rhys’ lips with a grin. A glance at Geralt told him it wasn’t just their skillful hands that were arousing Geralt. “You like it.” Another hard squeeze, Eskel’s whole hand engulfing Rhys’, giving Geralt the exact right amount of pressure over his adductors.

Blinking slowly beneath them Geralt shuddered and relaxed under their hands. The groan was softer this time, and Geralt stared up at Eskel. “I _love_ it.” Geralt breathed gently for a few seconds before he spoke again. “I’ve never gotten to see this before. The two of you, together like this I mean.”

There was a tiny moment when Eskel wondered if he could please them both, but it was fleeting. The desire in Geralt’s eyes and his clear interest in seeing Eskel being intimate with Rhys, kissing and touching each other, sent the thought to the far corners of Eskel’s mind.

Guiding Rhys’ hand higher Eskel brought it over Geralt’s balls. Skating their fingertips over his sac before drawing their hands up his shaft to grip it loosely. Curling his other arm around Rhys, Eskel brought him back in for another deep kiss. They kept up an idle rhythm and Geralt’s cock twitched in their hands, stiffening with every stroke.

Eskel moved his kiss to the corner of Rhys’ mouth, then his jaw. Kissing along the line of it until he reached the hinge where Eskel grazed it with his teeth. “Should we take him apart?”

***

Rhys turned his head into Eskel's neck, nuzzled at it, gave a soft bite to Eskel's throat. "Please. But I'd like to move before we do. For a better view."

He nudged Geralt until he rolled off their laps and followed Rhys' gentle push until he was stretched out on the bed, with Eskel and Rhys on either side of him. Rhys pulled Eskel close, a hand curled in his hair and kissed him, took his time with it. Kissed Eskel's scars before returning to his mouth, licking over his lips.

With his free hand, he sought Eskel's and they closed their fingers around Geralt's cock again. Rhys didn't look at what they were doing, navigated only by touch. He kept all his attention on Eskel. Geralt's small gasp when they touched him made Rhys smile into the kiss. 

Astonishingly, Geralt had so far been able to keep his hands to himself, maybe too fascinated seeing Rhys and Eskel kiss. Letting go of Eskel, Rhys trailed his fingers down Geralt's chest to his stomach, followed the scars up again. He thumbed and gently tugged on Geralt's nipples, made his cock twitch in their hands at the touch.

***

It was easier than Eskel expected to fall into Rhys’ kisses with Geralt watching. While he’d known Rhys would like this—sharing and showing—he hadn’t been as sure he would. 

But he did. 

In fact, Eskel was finding it extraordinarily erotic. And Geralt’s whisper quiet noises at the touch of their hands, the way Eskel caught Geralt’s unblinking stare when Rhys finally broke away from his mouth, only drove his arousal higher.

Geralt’s fingers were twisting the fabric of the covers, aimlessly questing for something to hold onto. Not antsy as he would normally be, only seeking slowly, and Eskel laced his fingers with Geralt’s. Held his hand and watched as pleasure played across Geralt’s face each time Rhys rolled his nipple. 

It was heady to see and Eskel wanted to see more. Catching Rhys’ eyes Eskel set Geralt’s hand on his leg, savoring the grip Geralt help him in. Pointing at the nightstand Eskel gave Rhys a sly look. “Oil?”

Taking the small bottle from Rhys’ hand Eskel let it rest on the bed, in between Geralt’s slightly open legs. Slipping his hand behind Rhys’ neck again Eskel pulled him forward for a quick series of kisses along his jaw, down his neck, lingering softly with only his lips over the bruises Geralt had bitten into him. “I wanna see you suck him.”

***

Geralt couldn’t help himself at the low whisper of Eskel’s words drifting down to him. Bucking his hips up into their combined hands he moaned. They were torturing him. And it was exquisite. Hands roaming his body, mingling together to touch him. Sensual kisses above him so close he could hear their heart beats speeding up in time with each other, feel the heat radiating off their bodies, and drown in the combined scents of foreign spices, juniper, and bourbon.

The gentle thrust of his hips got him only the swipe of a thumb over the head of his cock and Geralt wasn’t even sure who’s it had been. He was too drawn to the way Rhys was gently luring Eskel out of his normally reserved skin. Paring him away until only the core remained, open and willing to ask for what he wanted.

“Yes,” it was a barely there rasp at first, “yes, please.” Geralt closed his eyes for a moment. Tried to compose himself. He wanted this to last longer. Seeing this side of them. It was going to be over too soon. Giving a hard squeeze to Eskel’s leg Geralt rocked his hips gently again. Begging them to stop his madness. Give him peace so he could watch them more.

***

After one last kiss to Eskel's lips, Rhys turned his attention to Geralt. Bending over him, he let his braid drag over Geralt's skin while he slowly licked and nibbled his way from Geralt's chest to his stomach. 

Geralt's fingers ghosted over his arm and Rhys took his hand, held it loosely in his. With his braid curling in the crook of Geralt's hip, Rhys placed a soft kiss to the head of Geralt's cock before taking it into his mouth. 

It drew a loud keening noise from Geralt and he bucked under Rhys before quieting down, a shiver running over him. Rhys gave a gentle bite to Geralt's shaft, tusks and fangs barely touching the skin, and licked down from the head to the balls and up again.

Eskel has one hand resting on the back of Rhys' neck, only touching, not pushing down. The heavy warmth of it made Rhys' heart beat faster with excitement. This soft, leisurely play was amazing to him in its intimacy between the three of them and he wanted all the touch and connection he could get.

Dipping his head down, Rhys took Geralt halfway, pulled back and took him all the way. Kept him in his throat for a moment before coming up for air and then setting an excruciatingly slow pace between sucking on the head and swallowing him down. He dipped his tongue into the slit to get a taste of precum every time before taking Geralt's shaft, savoring the way it made Geralt moan and shudder.

***

Hand riding the rhythm of Rhys sinking down on Geralt’s cock, the image of it sliding wetly past his lips was so alluring Eskel couldn’t tear his eyes away. Geralt shook, the intensity of it curling his toes, and his fingers digging into to Eskel’s leg. 

Still Eskel watched. The way Rhys closed his eyes and hummed in pleasure with the head of Geralt’s cock in his mouth. Listened to Geralt’s near-delirious gasps and moans. Rhys opened his eyes and gazed at Eskel. Held his eyes while he settled Geralt back in his throat, sending a hot rush of excitement through Eskel straight to his own cock.

Fuck it ached. Eskel fumbled for the oil between Geralt’s legs. Laying down next to Geralt he rested his head on Geralt’s stomach. Eyes fixated on Rhys. Geralt’s stomach clenched under him when Eskel’s finger slid inside his ass. 

Warmth flood Eskel’s body as he took his time coaxing Geralt’s body the same way Rhys coaxed his cock. “Touch him with me.” Words no more than a dry whisper. Eskel bit his lip to stifle his own moan when Geralt’s hand found his hair, fingers grasping and releasing it in time with Rhys’ mouth.

***

Giving Geralt's hand a last squeeze, Rhys let go so he could use it to prop himself up. He stopped sucking on Geralt's cock for a moment so he could slick his fingers up using both hands. 

He waited until Eskel had pulled his finger almost all the way out to take his hand and press their fingers together. They pushed into Geralt easily again, making him moan. 

Rhys leaned over to kiss Eskel, pushed his tongue into Eskel's mouth to share Geralt's salty taste with him. After a moment to breathe, he curled his tongue around Geralt's cock and took it into his mouth again, tongue gliding over the silky soft skin. 

Geralt cried out softly when Rhys swallowed around him, bobbing his head down at the same time he and Eskel pushed deep into Geralt. They kept their rhythm, driving Geralt higher and higher with each thrust, each swirl of Rhys' tongue over the tip of his cock.

When Geralt started to fuck up into him, Rhys matched his rhythm instead to take his whole shaft every time Geralt thrust his hips up. It didn't last long, soon Geralt was fucking Rhys' throat with abandon and Rhys let himself be used, concentrated on breathing when he could.

Hot cum spurted into Rhys' mouth, Geralt's cock pulsing and twitching against his tongue. Geralt's ass clenched around their fingers and they fucked him slow and hard through his orgasm until he was lying under them, moaning and shuddering.

***

Geralt’s fingers curled hard in Eskel’s hair, giving an involuntary tug as he moaned and thrust up into Rhys’ mouth. Eskel could do nothing but watch, cock throbbing between his legs, the tender skin behind his balls aching to be touched. He’d never seen anything so erotic or felt anything as intimate as the way Geralt’s stomach contracted under his face when his orgasm tore through him. The way his body clutched at their combined fingers trying to hold them in deep while they drove him right through it.

It was the quivering of Geralt’s abdomen that brought Eskel back from his wandering mind. The groans and the scrabble of Geralt’s heels on the blankets as he became oversensitive. Eskel let their fingers relax, coming out of Geralt slowly then before surging up to kiss Rhys mouth. 

The taste of Geralt was strong there and Eskel moaned loudly into Rhys’ mouth at finding it. He was breathless when he laid back down. Eyes closed, hand squeezing his balls hard. “I need a moment.”

Geralt rolled into Eskel’s side, pillowing his head on Eskel’s chest, handing resting over Eskel’s own on his balls. With a light squeeze Geralt brought his leg up to rest over Eskel’s, trapping it lightly against the bed. “That was…unbelievable.”

Sleepy and content, feeling fucked out in the best way, Geralt could have drifted off right then. But that was twice now he’d come, and once for Rhys. Eskel hadn’t allowed himself anything yet, and Geralt wanted to change that.

Struggling past the grip of sleep, Geralt tipped his head up, resting his chin on Eskel. A soft lick, wide tongue over Eskel’s flat nipple, brought up a low growl from him. 

“Geralt.”

“Hmm?” It was his best harmless voice, and Geralt paired it with a soft smile even though Eskel’s eyes remained steadfastly closed.

Another hard tug to his balls and Eskel’s hand came up to run through his hair. “Be good.” The growl was much softer now, teasing. Eskel’s breath was settling down, but Geralt persisted, letting his tongue swirl around Eskel’s nipple before blowing on it. 

Inhaling deeply Eskel growled again, opening his eyes to look right at Geralt. There was no heat in his words, only a curious timbre. “What more could you possibly want right now?”

Geralt grinned, huge and satisfied. “You.” Running his hand up Eskel's leg, palm flat over his cock, up to his chest, Geralt pushed himself up and looked over his shoulder at Rhys with a playful spark in his eye. “We want _you_. To feel good.”

***

Rhys had withdrawn to the foot of the bed to give them some space and to also take a minute to find his composure. Eskel's almost exasperated growls at Geralt made him grin. He wanted to take him apart just as they had Geralt.

Stalking up the bed on all fours until he was stretched out over Eskel, with one knee between Eskel's legs and shoulders touching with Geralt, Rhys dipped his head down for a kiss. "Let us take care of you."

He nosed into Geralt's neck before kissing him, too, a hand running up his back until it cradled his face. Eskel's cock was pressed against Rhys' leg and it gave a hard twitch at the sight, making Rhys almost laugh. He was giddy with the chance to give Eskel this, together with Geralt.

Returning his attention to Eskel, Rhys pushed his hand into Eskel's hair, winding strands around his fingers. With slow movements, he raised himself into a crouch, placed a soft bite to Eskel's throat. Teeth barely pushing into the skin, breathing in his scent. Sweat and arousal mingling into a salty musk, the juniper barely there. 

For a moment, Rhys kept still like this and just breathed, slipping into astral sight to bathe in the golden glow and bone deep hum of the witchers' auras. Coming back to Eskel's pulse beating strong and fast against him. Rhys let go and moved down, leaving a trail of almost invisible bite marks on Eskel's skin that disappeared in his wake.

He had gently trapped Eskel's arm under his own when he propped himself up on his elbow and kept one hand touching Eskel's neck, the other resting on Geralt, drawing idle patterns on his arm and side. Geralt was shifting under his hand and Rhys met his gaze, black pupils swallowing up the gold. With a smile, Geralt moved to kiss Eskel.

When he reached Eskel's chest, Rhys drew a spiral of nibbles and bites until he reached Eskel's nipple and licked over it, sucked on it. He did it until it had drawn a moan from Eskel and bit down on it, fang pressing into it just shy of pain. Let go, did it again and then licked away the tiny bite marks. 

Raising his head, he looked at Eskel, checking in to make sure that it wasn't too much.

***

Surrounded and partially pinned to the bed Eskel didn't have much choice. They had ganged up on him and trapped him. Geralt stole a kiss, and Rhys' mouth moving distractingly down his throat to his chest. 

Eskel tried to contain the noises that wanted to break free when Rhys went to work, hot mouth licking and sucking at his nipple. Sucking his lips in his mouth Eskel trapped them between his teeth, then bit at his tongue, but Rhys was persistent.

When Eskel couldn't stay quiet anymore and a moan trickled out Rhys set his teeth against Eskel's nipple, pinching it with his fangs. Squeezing his eyes shut Eskel tried to ride out the wave of pleasure when Rhys repeated the action. Warm wet tongue licking over the nonexistent injury.

Trying to raise his chest Eskel couldn't do much and moaned in frustration. Opening his eyes he saw Rhys looking at him. He gave a barely there nod before letting his head fall back with his eyes closed.

Geralt' lips brushed Eskel's again, and Eskel squirmed. They blazed a trail down his neck straight to his other nipple and Geralt licked over it broad and flat. Grazed it with his teeth.

Turning his head Eskel tried to bury his face in the pillow but it was out of reach. He wished Rhys would touch his face, help him cover up a little bit so he wasn't on display. With Geralt on one arm and Rhys on the other he couldn't do anything to shield himself from their watchful eyes.

***

As much as he would have liked to let Eskel squirm a little longer, Rhys decided not to. He moved up so Eskel could hide his face against Rhys' neck if he wanted to, buried his hand in Eskel's hair again.

His other hand reached down, past Geralt still licking and nibbling softly at Eskel's chest, until he found Eskel's cock. There were drops of precum already on Eskel's stomach and Rhys swirled his fingertips around in it, then dragged them down the shaft and up again. 

With his thumb stroking the sensitive head of Eskel's cock in an irregular rhythm designed to frustrate, and his fingers resting lightly around the shaft, Rhys leaned in to kiss Eskel. Placed kisses under his ear and along his jaw until Eskel turned his head so Rhys could kiss his mouth.

***

Eskel let his mouth be captured by Rhys, grateful for the shelter offered there. Hips lifting into the stroke of Rhys' thumb Eskel whined into his mouth when he couldn't gain any relief. With every aborted thrust of his hips Rhys hand moved lightly up with him, giving him nothing firmer.

Nuzzling his face into the crook of Rhys' neck Eskel blinked his eyes open. They ached and he wondered why. He couldn't control the stream of soft noises that seemed to overflow out of him and he mouthed at Rhys' neck.

"Please." It was a timid whisper against Rhys' skin and when it didn't get Eskel any satisfaction either he licked his lips and tried again. "Please. Touch me right."

Geralt stopped, mouth open, tongue swirling around Eskel's nipple, and stared across Eskel's chest. On the rare occasion he indulged Eskel in this type of worshipful sex, and Eskel begged him, it took _time_. They'd barely started and already Rhys had Eskel making noises and begging. 

It was fascinating to see Eskel, always so stoic and control, just fall apart in Rhys' hands. The way he hid in Rhys' embrace, how much more vocal he was, and how he'd gone from brave and bold a bit ago to looking so defenseless now.

***

Geralt started when Rhys touched his hand, but moved easily when Rhys pulled his hand down to Eskel's cock. With Rhys guiding them, they stroked it with the same light touch and uneven rhythm. 

With his lips grazing Eskel's ear, Rhys whispered to him. "Not yet. Patience."

He leaned over to Geralt and caught his attention by nosing at his neck. "Come, hold him with me." Before Geralt could move, Rhys stole a kiss from him and Geralt answered it, only stopping when he had to breathe. 

They still had Eskel pinned down under them and when Geralt draped his leg across Eskel's, Rhys did the same. It was a very slow and languid trap and Eskel did nothing to escape it.

Eskel squirmed between them, desperately trying not to move, not to demand more touch after his begging had failed. Rhys kept their hands on his cock, teasing slowly. He added gently caressing Eskel's balls into the mix, aiming to push him even further while refusing him any satisfaction from their touch.

***

Rhys' word echoed in Eskel's mind. _Patience_. Groaning, he blinked rapidly, eyes wet with tears of frustration. They rolled silently down the sides of his face as Eskel was overwhelmed by confusion. 

Patience for what? He'd begged Rhys and still they held him down and teased him. Eskel wanted to let go, be swept away in the bliss of orgasm, but it was out of reach. 

Retreating into Geralt, Eskel hid his face against Geralt's neck as a shudder ran through his body. Unable to stop the tears, he wanted to curl up and be small. But this was all he could manage. 

It did soothe him. Made him feel safer to shut the world out while he cried. Rhys and Geralt weren't hurting him. Their feather light touches felt like fire on his cock and balls. It was good. Too good. Eskel only wished he knew how to get the bliss he sought from them.

He gave a soft hiccup against Geralt. Trying to swallow his tears down and failing. Trying his hardest to be patient.

***

Geralt looked worriedly up at Rhys, while Eskel softly cried against him. Rhys wasn't as worried, he had thought this might happen. But he still bend down to kiss Eskel's neck, nose into his hair. 

'Are you alright?' Rhys took their hands away from Eskel's cock, let them rest on his stomach.

Eskel nodded, face still hidden against Geralt. He needed two attempts to get his voice to work. "'M fine. But I don't know what to _do_."

"Do? Nothing." Rhys placed another kiss on Eskel's jaw. 

Geralt leaned down for his own check-in with Eskel, nudging him gently into a kiss.

With a smile, Rhys looked up at Geralt who seemed reassured by Eskel's words and the kiss. Taking Geralt's hand with him, he reached for Eskel's cock again and started stroking him again. Barely felt touches, slow driving Eskel even higher.

***

For a split second Eskel’s frustration had peaked and he had wanted to argue that he couldn’t do _that_. But the soothing way Rhys had kissed his jaw sent the thought skittering away. It was something Rhys always did when he wanted Eskel to know that everything was alright, and it settled the idea right into his mind. It would be alright to do nothing just this once.

Loose breath rolling out of his lungs, Eskel shivered at the touch to his oversensitive cock returning. He closed his eyes and let the sensation sweep over him. Geralt’s lips pressed to the crown of his head and Eskel tried to stay still. If Rhys didn’t need him to do anything then he could just curl his face into Geralt and breath in his scent. Barely there blade oil and leather, saturated with the salt and tang of Geralt’s arousal.

The icy hot prickle of pleasure built, spreading further and further over his body and Eskel gasped. Mouth open against Geralt’s neck he licked the skin there. The weight of Rhys and Geralt on his arms and legs grew into a heavy blanket. Eskel let his mind wander and his mouth explore Geralt’s neck. Hot skin under his tongue and slick fingers sliding over him barely there, warm wet cheek where his face pressed into Geralt. All of it left him wanting.

***

Eskel had calmed, and Rhys decided he was done waiting and letting Eskel wait. He lifted Geralt's hand up to his lips and placed a kiss on the fingers. 

"Hold him for me, please? Keep him safe." Rhys gave a last kiss to Eskel's neck and another to Geralt, biting his lip softly.

With Geralt pulling Eskel close, Rhys moved down to kneel between Eskel's legs, oil bottle in hand. He let some drip on his palm, gave himself a few strokes to slick his cock up. Adding some more to his fingers, he stoppered the bottle and put it aside.

Fingertips tracing over the sensitive skin on Eskel's inner thighs, Rhys pressed two fingers of his other hand to Eskel's hole. He pushed in easily, slowly and deliberately fucking himself inside up to the knuckles of his hand in small thrusts. Then he paused and stayed in place until Eskel gave a quiet whine.

Rhys didn't make him wait longer, he pulled his fingers out and set the head of his cock against Eskel. He answered Eskel's moan with one of his own as he slid inside, just as gradually as his fingers. With a shudder, Rhys stilled when he was completely inside, savoring the way Eskel's muscles clenched around him.

***

The desire to cry came rushing back at Eskel when Rhys finally sank inside of him. But it was wholly different this time. A flood of relief. A weight of his shoulders. Geralt curled around him and Eskel cried out. Gulping for air, Eskel held onto Geralt and waited for the surge of emotion to pass.

Rhys was hard and hot inside him, and Eskel could stop himself from bearing down on his cock. It drew a gasp from him and Geralt kissed his open mouth. Tugged at Eskel’s lip with his teeth while Eskel’s breath stuttered in and out. Eskel only realized he hadn’t closed his mouth again when he felt one of Geralt’s fingers on his tongue and he reflexively closed his lips, sucking on it.

It slowed his breathing and he coiled his tongue around it, licking at the pad of Geralt’s fingertip. Eskel focused on Geralt’s finger, moaning softly around it, letting it slide through his lips in time with the slow thrust of Rhys cock in his ass. In his mind he could feel a cock in his mouth, thick and heavy. Taste it, salty and smooth skinned on his tongue and Eskel let himself get lost in the fantasy. The throb of Rhys’ cock driving slowly in and out of him only pushing him higher.

Cock aching to be touched Eskel spread his legs wider, tried to welcome Rhys in. Softened in Geralt’s hold, feeling safe and wanted. When Geralt removed his finger it drew a pitiful whine from Eskel and he opened his eyes to look at Geralt, pulling him down into a messy kiss. Dropping his head back Geralt came with him, forehead pressed against Eskel’s.

The tension wound tighter in his gut and Eskel thought he would simply break. But Geralt watched him, foreheads pressed together. Kissed his lips gently. And Rhys kept rocking into him in a maddening rhythm.

***

Rhys watched Eskel suck Geralt's finger into his mouth, slowly fucking into Eskel in their rhythm. He bit his lip to keep his moans quiet, an icy hot shiver crawling up his spine. 

Eskel was so close, it was obvious in every moan, every shudder. In the way he opened himself for Rhys, the way he clutched at Geralt like he was drowning.

Stopping for a moment, buried to the hilt in Eskel, Rhys dragged his fingers over Geralt's arm for attention. When he had it, he held out his own hand until Geralt gave him his and Rhys put it around Eskel's cock.

"Help me make him come." He waited until Geralt had started stroking Eskel and then matched his speed and rhythm, savoring all of Eskel's noises and quivers.

***

The gold of Geralt’s eyes glinted with every minute movement and Eskel wondered how he’d never gotten so lost in his eyes before. The firm grip was exactly the way he liked it. Skilled and practiced over decades. Geralt worked Eskel’s cock without needing to look away and Eskel couldn’t bring himself to look anywhere but at Geralt’s eyes. Every thrust of Rhys cock filled Eskel up, stretched him out in a way he craved.

Rhys and Geralt matched each other, pushing into Eskel’s ass and pulling along the shaft of his cock in perfect time until white hot need flared up inside of him. Burning fiery in Eskel’s gut, his whole body tightened up, and he gripped Geralt. The air choked in his throat. It flowed out of him in a potent rush, and left him breathless and drained.

Eskel could hear his own shaky moans. Feel the sticky cum pooling on his stomach. Make out the gentle pulsing of Rhys’ cock in his ass still. Vaguely, Eskel was aware that he had wrapped his legs around Rhys’ waist and was holding his tightly against himself. But he couldn’t make his body cooperate to unwind and let Rhys go.

***

The entranced way Geralt and Eskel watched each other would have been enough for Rhys to come even if Eskel hadn't bucked up under him. With his legs holding Rhys inside him, Eskel moved into every thrust. He had finally lost himself, crying out and digging his fingers deep in Geralt's arm.

Rhys lasted just long enough to fuck Eskel through his orgasm before he arched his back and froze, spilling himself into Eskel. His arms buckled and he collapsed on his elbows, crouched over Eskel with his head on Eskel's chest. 

Rising and falling with every gasp from Eskel, Rhys lay with his eyes closed, one hand searching and finding Geralt's to hold firmly. Eskel didn't want to let him go, legs quivering with the strain, ass milking Rhys' cock for the last of his cum.

With gentle, slow movements Rhys drew back out of Eskel when he couldn't stand it any more, his cock painfully sensitive. Every touch send a shudder through him. He pushed himself up, Eskel's legs falling away to the side and Rhys cupped his face in his hand, drawing him into a deep kiss.

"You looked gorgeous, giving yourself to us." Rhys mumbled against Eskel's neck, reaching up to pull Geralt into their embrace.

***

Rhys words were hushed against Eskel’s neck, but they fluttered into his mind like a simple white moth. Delicate wings stirring long forgotten dust.

The world around Eskel was hazy, motes floating in the light shafts from the stained glass windows behind the bed, and he couldn’t think of anything to say back so he said nothing at all. Only pulled his lovers close and for once let himself drift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Notes:  
> discussion on con non con and past rape  
> anal sex  
> oral sex  
> really soft, though


	4. The Pain That I'm Used To

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Stepping in front of Geralt again, Duncan trailed the blade lightly over Geralt's chest. The touch was barely to be felt, leaving no trace._  
>  _"You probably think, what's the worst he can do to me, he can't give me back to Eskel covered in wounds and not have him flip out." He set the blade against Geralt's skin, right over his nipple, and put the smallest bit of force into it._  
>  Geralt finally gets the knife play he has been wanting for a very long time.

Rhys opened the door and stepped inside, seeing Geralt standing with his head down and his hands on his back. Shutting the door behind him, Rhys looked him over while finding his way into his role. 

Duncan was in the mood for some hard play and at first Rhys has been relieved that it wouldn't be him. That Duncan had borrowed someone else for this. But then Duncan had told him to go and prepare Geralt and then wait with him. Which meant that Duncan wanted him to watch, maybe help. Rhys knew better than to object.

He wasn't allowed to speak to Geralt. And Geralt kept his head bowed, even though he clearly was aware of Rhys and kept track of him. Rhys pulled Geralt's shirt out of his pants and over his head, making him raise his arms with soft nudges. Duncan hadn't said anything about not touching and Rhys tried to calm Geralt by touch. He didn't know if it worked. The rest of Geralt's clothes followed until he was standing in front of Rhys naked. 

The sheer amount of scars on his body made Rhys swallow. But looking closer, they looked like scars from claws and teeth and weapons. At least he was used to pain.

Undressing himself, Rhys folded their clothes and put them on the dresser. He placed the things he had brought on the little table sitting against the wall: a bottle of oil, another with grain alcohol, a coil of rope, a glass dildo, a few pieces of cloth, a handful of clamps and weights. Then he knelt on the floor behind Geralt. Hands on his thighs, head down. Breathing out slowly, settling down to wait.

***

Duncan decided he had given Rhys enough time and climbed up the stairs to the Ruby Room. Opening the door, he couldn't help a pleased grin. Geralt standing, Rhys kneeling behind and to the side of him, both naked. 

He walked in and pulled his knife out of its sheath, set it down on the table with a loud clunk. Geralt would have to turn his head slightly to look at it. Making a circle around Geralt, Duncan made a stop next to Rhys and petted his hair, gripping it suddenly to make Rhys look up at him. 

"You get to help me. If you do it well, you'll get a reward. You want that, don't you?" He stared down at Rhys, twisting Rhys' braid around his fist.

"Yes, Sir." Rhys' voice had a fearful waver in it that made Duncan shiver.

Duncan let go of him without another word and stepped over to Geralt, pushing his head up with two fingers under his chin. "This will be different from last time. Last time, I was _nice_ to you. Maybe I'll be nice to you again, if you please me. We'll see."

Leaning in, he bit at Geralt's neck, sucking on the skin until he had left a first bruise, dark red against Geralt's white skin. He reached down to fondle Geralt's balls, let his hand roam all over Geralt's body until it ended curled in Geralt's hair, pulling hard on the ponytail for a second.

Geralt made a soft noise that wasn't quite a moan and Duncan was satisfied. He moved away from him and to the table, snapping his fingers at Rhys. "Get up. Hold his wrists for me. You can talk to each other. Tell him what's going to happen."

Coming up behind Geralt, Rhys took a deep breath so his voice would be steady. Geralt didn't resist when Rhys gripped his wrists, pulled them together behind his back.

"He will cut you with the knife. You don't need to keep silent. You just need to keep still." _Please_ Rhys voice said it even though he didn't say the word. This would be bad enough even without Duncan getting angry.

***

Geralt had expected to drop right into his role when Rhys opened the door. After all, he was excited about this. It was something he had asked for, not quite begged for but not far off, and a lot of thought had gone into how to make it happen safely.

And yet, Geralt felt oddly detached. Rhys moved around him. He was aware even of Duncan entering the room. Geralt wanted to be scared, but he wasn’t. Wrists held tightly by Rhys, who put a satisfyingly strong grip into it, Geralt still felt calm.

The hard pull in his hair had felt good, made his nerves tingle. The low rumble of Duncan’s voice brought back memories, but it was too curt and short, not directed at him, to really affect Geralt this time.

So Geralt waited. For the agony, or the exhilaration, or the fear to take over.

***

Duncan came back to them with the knife in his hand, his shirt discarded on the table. He had agreed with Geralt on his combat knife for this. It was wickedly sharp and very well kept, and Duncan was comfortable with it, had been using it for a long time.

He kept the knife well away from both Geralt and Rhys while he dug a coin out of his pocket and pushed into Geralt's hand, closed his fingers around it with a soft squeeze.  
Stepping in front of Geralt again, he trailed the blade lightly over Geralt's chest. The touch was barely to be felt, leaving no trace. 

"You probably think, what's the worst he can do to me, he can't give me back to Eskel covered in wounds and not have him flip out." He set the blade against Geralt's skin, right over his nipple, and put the smallest bit of force into it. Blood welled up immediately and Duncan took the knife away, let the blood dribble down over Geralt's nipple.

With quick flicks of his wrist, Duncan cut Geralt again and again. Not deep but drawing blood every time. He stopped when he had created a diamond pattern around each nipple, wide enough that he could place his palm in the middle of it and not touch any of the cuts.

He drew a thumb over the freshest cut, pressing down and leaving a red smear. "The answer is that I could skin you and still give you back to Eskel looking like nothing happened. Rhys here will heal you with magic when I am done."

Leaning close, he grabbed Geralt's hair again to force him to look up at him. His thumb left a wet crimson mark, from Geralt's temple along the side of his head, white hair staining easily. 

"Even if you tell him, he won't believe you. You're _mine_ and I'll take whatever I want from you." Duncan got right into Geralt's space, knife behind his back. He pushed Geralt into Rhys and left another bruise on Geralt's neck. When he stepped away, there were bloody streaks on his chest where he had leaned into Geralt. 

Duncan wiped the knife on the back of his hand and licked the blood off of his skin, holding Geralt's gaze.

***

The look in Duncan’s eyes when he licked his hand shot right into Geralt’s gut. Sent his heart thudding away in his chest out of control. He had known, back in the Passiflora, that Duncan was aroused by the taste of his blood. Even in his fucked out haze his senses had picked up on how Duncan had held his breath and savored the taste of it when he bit him. 

But he hadn’t _known_. Not like this. Eskel hadn’t known or he would have never let Duncan take him again.

Worse, Geralt could feel the familiar warmth of interest in his groin. It hadn’t even hurt when Duncan had sliced him. The blade was so sharp and Duncan was so quick, but when Duncan placed his thumb over the cut it woke it up. And slow realization of the pain seeped into Geralt’s mind until he could feel each one.

They burned in the background, and the longer it went on the more prominent it became. Duncan began to clean his knife, meticulous in its care. Leaving Geralt with nothing to focus on but the sting in his chest and Rhys’ grip around his wrists.

Taking a deep breath in through his nose, Geralt wanted to settle himself. To try not to be turned on by the pain. All it did was draw the scent of blood into his nose.

***

Duncan left the knife on the table for now and picked up some of the clamps and weights, made them clatter around in his hand. The metallic tang of Geralt's blood was strong in his mouth. He looked him up and down from a distance before coming close again, running the back of two fingers up Geralt's hardening cock.

"You're so eager for me. Rhys always needs time to warm up to an idea, especially when I hurt him. Maybe he can learn from you." Duncan focused on Geralt, ignored Rhys completely.

He went down on one knee and casually lifted Geralt's balls out of the way. Pinching the sensitive skin behind them together, he attached one of the clamps and hooked a weight to it. When he let Geralt's balls drop into place, they sent the weight swinging.

With his palms pressed against the inside of Geralt's thigh, Duncan made him spread his legs wider. He held Geralt's cock up with the back of his hand and gave a very soft bite to the shaft with his tusks, licked over it. 

Geralt relaxed the tiniest bit with the pleasure, leg muscles losing tension under Duncan's hand. Striking quickly, Duncan bit the tender inside of Geralt's thigh, hard enough to draw blood. He dragged him back and forth between pain and pleasure like this for a bit, leaving bite marks all over Geralt's thighs. 

A shuddering moan escaped from Geralt when Duncan ran his palms over the bites before getting up. The cuts on Geralt's chest had mostly stopped bleeding by now and Duncan traced them with a fingertip. He attached weighted clamps to each of Geralt's nipples, let the weights drop. 

Pulling handcuffs from a side pocket, Geralt handed them to Rhys. "Cuff him, you'll need your hands. Go sit on the bed then, on the edge."

Geralt gave a slight shiver at the ratcheting of the cuffs around his wrists. Duncan tugged on the clamps, pulled him into a kiss to give Rhys time to sit. With his tongue in Geralt's mouth, Duncan let him taste his own blood. 

He grabbed Geralt's neck in a hard pinch, dragged him forward and pushed him to his knees in front of Rhys.

"Suck his cock. Don't make him come." Without waiting to see if his orders were being obeyed, Duncan turned back to the table to pick up the knife again.

***

The clutch of Duncan’s hand at his neck startled Geralt. Yanked him right up out of the blurry daze he’d been slipping into. Eyes suddenly wide with fear he gasped and tried to look around but he couldn’t. Duncan’s grip was too solid. 

Somewhere he’d lost track of Rhys, between the sound of the metal tightening on his wrists and the taste of his own blood in his mouth. It was almost a relief then when Duncan pushed him to his knees and Rhys swam into view in front of him.

Swaying, Geralt groaned. The sudden movements had jostled everything, and the dull aching pains from the weights were now unsettled and throbbing. 

Duncan’s words rattled around in his mind. _So eager,_ and Geralt tried to stifle another noise. That was the problem. He was eager. It shouldn’t feel good, but it _did_. In the back of his mind he wondered if that was why Eskel loaned him out, because he knew Geralt was this twisted.

Hands came to his shoulders, and Geralt remembered he had a job to do. Opening his mouth he leaned forward. Licked up the length of Rhys’ cock. Set his mind to concentrate on the taste and feel of it. Ignoring the hot twinge of his own cock when little slices of pain opened up on his arms.

Closing his eyes, Geralt sank down, swallowed Rhys up, held him there for a breath. Then pulled back. Licking the head he decided to take a risk, he couldn’t make Rhys come, but maybe he could distract Rhys and Rhys in turn could distract him. He wasn’t forbidden from this, he didn’t think. “Talk to me, please?” 

Laying his head on Rhys’ thigh, Geralt took him in his mouth again.

***

Rhys petted Geralt's neck and shoulders softly, running his fingers through strands of hair and over Geralt's skin. He helped balance him with a hand to his shoulder, took some of his weight. For a time, he enjoyed Geralt's mouth on his cock, licking and sucking on it, keeping his eyes closed. 

"Please-- Like this, this is so good-- More, please-" Murmuring to Geralt, Rhys had the smell of blood in his nose.

When he opened his eyes, Duncan was standing over Geralt with the knife in his hand. There were already a number of cuts on Geralt's upper arm, blood welling up from them. The cut Duncan gave Geralt while Rhys watched didn't even bleed for a second until Duncan rubbed over it.

With the blood came white hot rage, flooding Rhys' mind. He gave a growl deep in his throat and Geralt tensed up between his legs. Duncan froze, the knife turned away from Geralt and Rhys in a movement so quick and fluid it looked like a magician's trick. He held Rhys' gaze, head cocked to the side.

Rhys took a long breath and willed himself to relax. This was _Duncan_ and Geralt wanted this. After a second, the anger settled, melted away like it had never been there. 

He gave a smile to Duncan and looked down at Geralt who was watching him with clear worry. Rhys cupped Geralt's face in his hand, ran a thumb over his cheekbone. "I'm fine. Do you want to keep going?"

***

True nervousness sprung up inside Geralt. Not the warm tingles of giddy arousal that came with doing something dirty or forbidden but the itching sense that came instead of fear when he knew he might need to _act_. In an instant his whole fantasy washed out around him and Geralt held himself still.

The sound of Rhys taking a breath was overly loud in Geralt’s ears, and then Rhys looked down at him, reassuringly. Blinking his eyes closed Geralt let the smoothness of Rhys' thumb on his cheekbone draw him back under. “Please.” 

Geralt was focused on Rhys’ encouraging touches when the nick of the knife came back without warning to his other arm. Mouth falling open in a short gasp Geralt rocked slightly on his knees and Rhys steadied him.

“Did I say you could stop sucking his cock?” Duncan’s voice was jarring, deep baritone edged with the possibility of anger and Geralt hurried to take Rhys back in mouth.

Another cut and Geralt gurgled around Rhys in the back of his throat. It hurt. He’d lost his balance between pleasure and pain. For now there was just pain. His arms burned and he was all too aware of the wetness on them. Another and another. Duncan’s thumb running down them, making them sting. Geralt draw a harsh breath in through his nose and the smell of metal was strong. Iron in the air.

Then Duncan stopped. Nothing happened. And Geralt was thankful for Rhys’ cock in his mouth to muffle his scream when Duncan tugged at the weight on his nipple, released the clamp and started pinching it.

Toes curling as Geralt tried to endure it, Duncan pulled at the other clamp. Lifted it and let it drop. Then it was gone, and the blood beat back into his abused nipple painfully. Pressing his fingers into it Duncan rubbed it roughly.

Belatedly Geralt remember he was supposed to be sucking Rhys. He tried to bob his head, distracted by the pain in his chest, arms long forgotten. 

Duncan’s hand between his legs shocked him. Made him shamefully aware that he was achingly hard. Fingers caressed over his balls. Teased at the weight, making it sway gently, then ghosted over the base of his cock.

“So eager. You want me to take this last one too?” Duncan toyed with the clamp again and Geralt whimpered. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Choking at the pain behind his balls Geralt’s eyes flew open, neck straining as he struggled not to close his legs against the pain. It traveled, from his balls to his tender asshole and felt like pulsing fire. He wanted something to press into it. Make it feel better, grind it out, but there was nothing. 

Only the pain loud in his mind and the ache of his cock. The teasing dribble of precum as it slid down his shaft.

***

Sliding his arms under Geralt's and pulling him to his chest, Duncan made him first sit up and then lifted him until Geralt stood in front of him. Duncan took his weight while Geralt found his legs.

"Look at him, he's gorgeous. All that pain and he's still hard and wants more." Bending his head to nibble at Geralt's neck, Duncan kept him in a tight embrace, trapping Geralt's arms between them. "Get some alcohol and come clean him up. Wipe the knife down, too."

He let his hands slide down Geralt's chest and stomach, cupped his balls and slowly drew two fingers up and down Geralt's shaft. Keeping an excruciatingly slow rhythm, he made sure Geralt had some pleasure to take his mind off the pain of Rhys cleaning his wounds. But not too much. He never touched the head of Geralt's cock, always stopped just shy of it.

Rhys poured alcohol on a piece of cloth and set out to methodically wipe the blood off Geralt's arms, chest and legs. The smell was sharp and piercing in Duncan's nose, taking the scent of blood with it. For now.

In his arms, Geralt wriggled. Maybe from the pain, maybe to get Duncan to stroke his cock harder. Duncan didn't care one way or the other, Geralt would have to take this. He put more force into his hold, letting go of Geralt's balls so he could wrap one arm around his chest. 

"Stop squirming. You'll get more pain soon enough, when _I_ say you can have it." Duncan dropped his voice into a low growl. "I know you want this. You wanted all the pain I gave you last time and you want it now. That's why I took you again."

***

 _You want this._ Shame washed over Geralt and he fell still in Duncan’s immovable hold. It burned inside him almost as harsh as the alcohol against his open skin. The only thing that moved was Geralt’s hand behind his back, fingers rubbing hard into the coin Duncan had handed him earlier.

Geralt’s head ached, and it warred with the ache in his cock. Large fingers stroking it so lightly, teasing him with pleasure. It was true, he did want this. He did like this. The sting of the alcohol only made his cock hurt more in the best way. And it might be wrong but it felt very right at the moment.

Head falling back against Duncan’s shoulder Geralt sagged a little in his arms, let the pain roll through his body and mix with the tiny shocks of pleasure from Duncan’s fingers. “I’m sorry, Sir. I’ll be still for you.”

It was good that Eskel didn’t know. That Duncan hadn’t told Eskel how much Geralt had enjoyed being hurt last time. Geralt was glad now that Duncan had decided to take him again. It could be their little secret.

It wasn’t like he had to say anything. He could just let Duncan hurt him. Enjoy the sweet ache in his balls, the heat in his gut building higher. If he was good maybe Duncan would let him come again— like last time. And no one but them would need to know how much the pain turned Geralt on.

The shame coiled in his chest tight, and slithered around the heat of arousal, working its way lower. Making his legs feel hot and icy all at once and Geralt moaned. He wanted this, and Duncan knew it. “You can use me however you want, Sir. I’m your whore, it’s what I’m for.”

***

"Oh, I know. And I will." Geralt was heavy in Duncan's arms, his legs barely keeping him upright. Duncan didn't trust him to kneel, let alone stand. With Rhys finished and kneeling next to the bed, Duncan picked Geralt up and dropped him on the bed from a height. It was enough to make Geralt bounce but not enough force or height to hurt him, with his arms cuffed behind his back.

Shoving him over on his stomach, Duncan sat on him backwards, keeping him pinned with his weight. He patted Geralt's ass, spread his legs and ran both palms over the bite marks on their inside. Geralt moaned but stayed still.

"Get me the knife. Bring the oil and the dildo, too. Come join us." Duncan snapped his fingers at Rhys when he didn't react immediately and Rhys scrambled to obey the order. 

Duncan moved until he was sitting higher on Geralt's back, with Geralt's hands resting against him. When Rhys climbed on the bed, Duncan took the knife from him, pulled him into a kiss that left Rhys breathless.

"Prepare him for me. Use your fingers first, then the dildo. No need to be gentle." The last words came as a growl, a threat both to Rhys and to Geralt.

Duncan watched while Rhys came to kneel between Geralt's legs, spread oil on his fingers and then pressed against Geralt's hole with two of them until he slid in. Geralt shuddered and spread his legs even wider. 

With Rhys fingering Geralt, working him open, Duncan set the knife against Geralt's ass and left a row of cuts on one cheek. Let them sit for a bit before giving a light smack to them. He wiped the blood off his fingers on the sheet and dragged the tip of the knife over Geralt's other cheek. A stifled groan and muscles tensing up under him made Duncan grin. He kept teasing Geralt before finally placing the first cut and then three others in quick succession.

Rhys' fingers were sliding easily in and out of Geralt. Duncan took Rhys' wrist to stop him and motioned at the glass dildo.

***

Fingers stretching his rim, two at once, made Geralt widen his legs even more, welcoming it. Cock jerking where it was pinned underneath him, Geralt’s whole body felt raw. Every nerve aware, alive, sensitive. Rhys’ fingers in his ass only heightened it with every thrust.

When Duncan’s blade started biting into him Geralt couldn’t keep track of it all anymore. It was too good. Too much. Everything he needed and more. The soft sound of static buzzed in his ears, drowning out the sounds of everything else and colors played behind his closed eyelids. Reds and whites and blacks. Geralt watched them swirl and spot.

A cold heavy weight invaded him. Geralt’s body clenched around it reflexively and it was unforgivingly solid inside him. Nothing like flesh. This would remake his body to fit itself with every thrust and Geralt let out a guttural moan, loud and wanton.

Geralt had wanted Duncan’s cock. But this would force pleasure out of him brutally too. And suddenly he wasn’t sure which would be better or worse. “Please. Pleeease, Sir. I want to-” Geralt’s thoughts were jumbled in his mind and he tried to find the other end of the sentence but couldn’t, “-more.” 

***

For a while, Duncan watched Rhys fuck Geralt, tracing patterns in the blood smeared on Geralt's ass with the tip of the knife. He waited for Geralt's small whines to hit that particular pitch that told him Geralt was desperate.

He leaned in to give Rhys' cock a squeeze, drew a loud moan from him. "Stop. Leave it in there. You can watch us and touch yourself all you want but you don't get to come. This is not about you." 

"Yes, Sir." Rhys nodded and withdrew to kneel next to the bed where he wouldn't be in the way but have a good view. He was clearly achingly hard but that was not Duncan's problem.

Getting up and wiping the knife down quickly, Duncan also got rid of his pants and left them on top of his shirt on the table. He climbed onto the bed again behind Geralt, pulled the dildo out in one quick movement.

Geralt whined at being left empty. Duncan let him squirm for a short moment while he dripped some oil on his palm and stroked his cock. Crouching over Geralt, Duncan set his cock against him and slid in easily. He had to keep still to settle himself, bit down hard on his lower lip.

When Duncan thought he had some control over himself again, he pulled back and thrust hard into Geralt, not bothering to be gentle or slow. Pushing his groin against Geralt's ass, aiming to make every thrust painful. 

"Come for me--" Duncan propped himself up on his elbows to either side of Geralt, tusks digging into the back of Geralt's neck.

***

The cold had warmed to Geralt’s body slowly. Taking on his own heat but never softening, it was just as he’d anticipated—rigid and unyielding inside him. Its smooth surface rubbed over his prostate and pressed into it ruthlessly, sending zaps of arousal down his cock.

The red melted into black behind his eyelids and Geralt keened, tongue pressed to the roof of his open mouth in an effort to hush himself. White spots opened up and brightened before him, fading away as the dildo in his ass suddenly grew heavy. Stopped. Sagged down with the weight of being left unheld.

Then the emptiness came and Geralt had a moment to imagine himself open to Duncan’s eyes. He couldn’t help the pitiful whine it brought. Writhing at the idea of Duncan staring at his ass, open and begging for more, Geralt was overcome with a chill. Goosebumps were rising on his flesh when Duncan’s body pressed into him.

The heat that came with it almost overwhelmed Geralt, searing his skin and making him cry out. Thick cock rushing into Geralt hard, dragging him open wider than before. Geralt’s body tried desperately to hold onto Duncan’s every thrust. To keep him close. Hold him deep inside.

All the colors crashed together in a turbid storm behind Geralt’s eyes and he gasped for air, Duncan’s deep, pounding thrusts knocking it out of him each time. Making his ass _sting_ when Duncan’s groin slapped into the cuts there. 

Duncan’s tusks, threatening to burrow under his skin at the back of his neck rose every hair on Geralt’s head. Each one coming to attention and standing stiff at the root. Geralt was relieved at Duncan’s order, because it was inevitable. There was no stopping his body from giving Duncan this now. Even if he hadn’t been allowed he’d have had to take the punishment for it.

There wasn’t a clear moment for Geralt. No rushing pleasure through his groin. His balls had long since been drawn tight against his body, and his cock was so thoroughly trapped by his weight and Duncan’s that it could barely manage a hard twitch. 

Instead there was a plateau when satisfaction overpowered the the tense edge he’d been held on and lowered him down. The buzz in his ears got loud, roared, then softened at the edges, and the colors behind his eyelids went muted soft and gray.

Geralt felt sleepy. Warm, content, and so sleepy. Duncan was still above him, arms on either side of his head; his damp heavy breath puffing across Geralt’s neck in stuttered bursts. And it felt good to have him there, taking what was his.

***

Rhys watched them both with fascination. Duncan had known exactly which buttons to push to make Geralt lose himself. To keep him on the edge between pain and pleasure. And Geralt had just let himself fall, trusting Duncan to catch him.

Duncan hadn't held anything back in these last few moments, had used Geralt for his own pleasure and Rhys shuddered with arousal at how naked their lust for each other was. He kept watching until Duncan had his fill and came, arched over Geralt and collapsed. 

Climbing up on the bed, Rhys ran a hand through Duncan's mohawk. "Stay with him, I'll take care of you." Geralt didn't react beyond a soft sigh to Rhys' touch and another, louder sigh when the magic of the healing spell flowed through his body. The cuts closed, vanishing into faint pink lines that would be completely gone by tomorrow.

Throwing on some clothes and fighting his erection about the question of pants, Rhys went downstairs for a pitcher of warm water, some food and drink. Pouring the water into a bowl upstairs, he set out to clean Geralt and Duncan up from the blood. It had gotten _everywhere_ , smeared all over their bodies like paint. 

Geralt let himself be moved around willingly, holding on to Duncan as much as he could. When Rhys was done, he nudged Duncan who was almost as much on the edge of sleep as Geralt. "Pick him up for a minute?"

While Duncan held Geralt, Rhys removed the old sheet they had covered the bed with. He pulled back the covers and patted the mattress. "Right. All done. You two want something to eat or drink?"

They didn't. At least Rhys gathered as much from Duncan's mumble and from the fact that they just rolled up together under the sheets. Rhys shrugged and put everything within reach on the nightstand before undressing and joining them. Duncan pulled him into the embrace and Geralt pushed his face into Rhys' neck.

With a long sigh, Rhys closed his eyes and dozed off to the soft breathing of his lovers.

*******

It's a two chapter update! Click next _points to button_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Notes:  
> knife play  
> blood


	5. When the Pain Fades

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The path of Rhys’ fingers on his chest, unmistakably following the route of the knife before it, caused a subtle shudder to run through Geralt. Had he enjoyed himself? He’d felt so euphoric in the moment, letting Duncan hurt him like that, allowing himself to feel the pain and having his carefully kept boundaries around enjoying it shattered._  
>  Knife play aftermath and another first time

The fog was slow to lift. Geralt was warm, on his way to hot, arms and legs entangled with Duncan’s. Even in his sleep Duncan held him tightly, and Geralt was loathe to leave it but he was also _thirsty_. Rhys’ arm were intertwined loosely with Duncan’s, cradling Geralt in between the two of them, but he moved them to make room as soon as Geralt began to shift.

Turning over, Geralt gave Rhys a lazy little smile. Duncan squeezed Geralt in his sleep and Geralt let himself be pulled back against his chest. Rolling over had created space where none was before and let in air. The cool air felt good for a moment against Geralt’s skin before goosebumps rose and he beckoned Rhys closer. 

Laying his head back down on Duncan’s massive bicep, Geralt hugged Duncan’s forearm to his chest. Accepted Rhys’ leg over his own and tilted his face up when Rhys leaned over him to give him a kiss.

“Thank you.” Geralt murmured his words softly, “For healing me, for playing with us.” Clearing his throat quietly Geralt tried not to disturb Duncan. “Is there something to drink up here?”

***

"Sure." Rhys leaned in for another kiss to Geralt's neck and then sat up to pour a mug of apple juice. He passed it to Geralt who sipped it, propped up on one elbow with Duncan still doing his best even in his sleep to hold him close.

The marks where the cuts had been were fading rapidly and Rhys traced a finger over those on Geralt's chest. "I'm glad it all worked out so well. You certainly seemed to have enjoyed yourself." He flashed a grin, fangs barely hidden.

The movement and their voices finally did wake Duncan up and he moved, a little sleep drunk. Sitting against the headboard, he invited Geralt with a gesture to come and lean into him. Geralt readily followed the invitation and Rhys joined them, nestling into Duncan. 

Duncan picked a slice of apple from the plate Rhys held in his lap, with various fruits and some grilled pork and bread, already cut into bite-sized pieces. Chewing it, he nosed into Geralt's hair. "How do you feel?"

***

The path of Rhys’ fingers on his chest, unmistakably following the route of the knife before it, caused a subtle shudder to run through Geralt. Had he enjoyed himself? He’d felt so euphoric in the moment, letting Duncan hurt him like that, allowing himself to feel the pain and having his carefully kept boundaries around enjoying it shattered.

When Duncan woke and invited Geralt back into him, Geralt went easily. Curling up against his side, legs thrown over Duncan’s. The heat of Duncan’s arm around him seeped away a bit of his worry. Duncan didn’t let Geralt do things to himself that weren’t alright, he was very protective, always watching out, always listening.

Geralt had to think briefly before answering Duncan’s question. “I feel safe. A little weird. A lot of things, actually. Exhilarated by how much I enjoyed it while we did it? And that I finally got to try it. Playing really hard with being hurt like that.” 

Closing his eyes, Geralt laid his head on Duncan’s shoulder, let Duncan pull him in tight. “But now that we’re done playing with it, it does feel a bit weird to think that I enjoyed it so much. I wouldn’t really want to be with someone who was cruel to me like that all the time. It’s a good fantasy for me, but the reality is a little too… close to something I think I would have accepted at one time, to get this.”

“It’s still odd to me, I guess.” Sighing heavily without bothering to open his eyes Geralt tried to focus on Duncan’s hold around him. Chugged the rest of his apple juice to sate his thirst and continued. “I mean, I know you don’t mind, or think I’m strange, or you wouldn’t have done it. But it’s weird to ask someone who cares about me to hurt me so much physically, just so I can find this place and feel this perfectly sweet bliss I find there.”

Still sitting against Duncan, empty mug in his lap, Geralt made no attempt to move. Eyes still closed and face placidly calm, he didn’t really want to face what Rhys or Duncan’s faces said about his thoughts. He did feel blissful still, the dregs of euphoria clinging to him. But he also felt a little unsettled about how good it felt to be hurt. 

Geralt wanted Duncan to hurt him again. Not right now. Not even right away. But someday. And he already knew it was going to come.

Deep in his gut he trusted Duncan, loved the way Duncan protected him in everything—even this. Geralt did, over every other emotion whirling around inside right now, feel _safe_. Safe that Duncan had been the one to do this. Safe in telling Duncan he was feeling twenty different feelings right now. Safe that Duncan didn’t judge him for enjoying this. The fact that Duncan was still cradling him in his arms while Geralt bared his feelings right now spoke worlds to him.

***

"Mhm." Duncan gave a low hum while he tried to put into words what he wanted to say. "I don't think it's weird. Who else are you going to ask to hurt you like this, someone who _doesn't_ care about you? And fantasy isn't there to be logical or to make sense in real life."

Rhys nibbled on a handful of hazelnuts, his free hand still tracing over the fading marks on Geralt's chest. "Listen, we brawled until I was bruised all over, you had your fingers up my ass with just spit as lube and you smacked my cock and yes, part of what I liked about that was the fear. But the pain was just as important for me."

"It's normal - it's tied to how the body deals with too much pain and stress and fear, by throwing chemicals at you that make you feel better. Like the adrenaline high in a fight, you know that. It works here, too—especially when you add sex and pleasure into the mix." Rhys moved closer to them both so he could lean into Duncan and put a hand on Geralt's leg. "And of course the whole rush of handing yourself over to someone. Sure, you can safeword out of this, but the illusion of helplessness is very much there."

***

Passing Rhys his empty mug Geralt opened his eyes. "No one's ever put it like that to me before. Well, I've never talked to anyone about this much before, because it usually doesn't get a great reaction."

Nabbing a piece of pork off of the plate Geralt enjoyed it before running his fingers along the stubble on Duncan's jaw. Placing a kiss there. "I wouldn't want to ask anyone else besides you to hurt me like this. You're always so careful with me, but you hurt me the best. Some of the things you did…"

A shiver ran over Geralt at the memory of Duncan's words, his compliments on how well Geralt took pain. "I want them again. Not right away. But someday. I loved the way you seemed so pleased with me being able to take pain and stay hard." 

Standing up on his knees Geralt buried his faced in Duncan's neck at the memory, already a little aroused just thinking of it. "Taking something I feel ashamed about and praising it as a worthy trait. That really…worked for me." Geralt swallowed hard.

***

"I noticed." With a laugh, Duncan pulled Geralt closer. "I'm glad it worked because I plan to do it again." He ran his hands down Geralt's back and up again, burying them in his hair. 

Next to them, Rhys made puppy eyes and gave a quiet whine. With the plate safely on the night stand again, Duncan didn't think twice about including him in the embrace, moving Geralt a little to the side.

Rhys wormed his way into the hug until he had Geralt in his arms and the were both leaning sideways against Duncan. This meant that Duncan wasn't able to move but he was more than fine with being pinned down like this. It also meant that he got to watch Rhys softly kiss Geralt and explore the scars on Geralt's arms and sides with his fingertips. 

With his face buried against Geralt's neck, Rhys breathed deeply. Geralt startled and settled down again. Duncan assumed Rhys had nipped at his neck. He loved the contrast between Geralt's white hair and Rhys' black. Between Rhys' tattoos and Geralt's many scars, both standing out on fair skin.

***

Drifting back Geralt enjoyed the comfort of both Duncan at his side and Rhys in front of him. Rhys' soft touches, lips and fingertips mapping out his skin. Geralt hummed and allowed himself to be aware of his body's reaction to it.

There had been times and places, positions with Rhys, that sometimes put Geralt on edge. This wasn't one of them though. He was at ease with Rhys because Rhys was at ease with _him_ now. There was no longer a fear from Rhys of fucking up with Geralt. And although he'd never really known he had felt it before, it's absence was a huge comfort he welcomed.

It occurred to Geralt that they'd neglected Rhys a bit during their play. Duncan was still obviously worn out mentally, and after playing hard with Rhys in his own way Geralt could understand that. But it didn't mean he couldn't offer Rhys some fun of their own, either, with Duncan as the backdrop.

Drawing Rhys further in, Geralt urged him back up to Duncan until his back rested against Duncan's chest. Carefully pinning Rhys there, Geralt moved in to kiss him. Leisurely, in no rush and wanting to enjoy his time with Rhys now. Draping his arms over Rhys shoulders and rubbing his fingers into the sides of Duncan's scalp.

Geralt only pulled away when he was sure Rhys really needed to breathe. He laughed softly. "I did enjoy myself a lot. But I would like to enjoy you too now, if you're still up for it." One hand wandered perilously lower on Rhys chest and Geralt looked at Duncan over Rhys' shoulder. "I doubt Duncan would mind a show."

***

Duncan's laugh vibrated against Rhys' back. He placed a kiss to Rhys' neck, just below the ear, that gave Rhys a little shiver. "I wouldn't mind that at all."

Rhys tipped his head back so he could kiss Duncan and the focused on Geralt again. "I'm up for it. Come and get me." 

He didn't try to escape, perfectly content to be trapped between Duncan and Geralt. Especially with Geralt's hand drifting even lower, over his stomach. Rhys answered the touch with his own, palms running over Geralt's sides to his ass. Moving his head up into a kiss, Rhys gave Geralt's ass a squeeze, pulling him even closer. He wanted to have Geralt's skin against his own as much as possible.

***

Allowing himself to be pulled, Geralt moved into Rhys until his cock was flush up against Rhys’. Hand moving to Rhys’ hip to hold him steady against Duncan, Geralt rocked himself deliberately slow against Rhys, nuzzling his head into Rhys’ neck to suck and nip at the flesh there. Rhys’ hand kneaded his ass, and Geralt drank it all in. Licked along Rhys’ collarbone before dipping his head to graze his teeth over a nipple.

Drawing away he savored Rhys’ piteous moan. Then, still pinning Rhys with one hand, he cupped his balls with the other. Rolled them and gave them a gentle tug before running the back of his hand up the underside of Rhys’ shaft. Geralt took his hand away again, sat back on his heels between Duncan’s legs. Rhys looked half desperate already.

“I know you like to take cock. Do you want mine?” It felt inexplicably bold to say, to just offer to fuck Rhys without being _made_ to. But Rhys looked so needy and vulnerable. Wanton and hungry. Geralt knew Rhys enjoyed taking a cock in his ass, and Duncan was here. This was safe, comfortable, natural, and Duncan would coach him through it he was sure. It felt empowering to offer it like this, of his own choice. “I think I could fuck you, if you turned around and leaned up against Duncan. He could hold you for me. I won’t hurt you, I promise.”

***

"I know you won't." Rhys stretched out a hand to caress Geralt's face, ran a thumb over his lips. "I'd like that very much."

He knew very well that this was not an easy thing for Geralt to offer, especially outside of a scene, without Duncan ordering him to do it. The fact that Geralt trusted him enough to do this made Rhys' pulse speed up.

Excitement rushing through him, he turned to face Duncan. They had to do some rearranging of cushions and limbs but eventually Duncan ended up leaning against a pile of cushions, with Rhys resting his upper body on him. Rhys spread his legs for Geralt, arched his back to display his ass. With Duncan holding him, he could hold that position easily.

Duncan petted Rhys, ran the whole length of his braid through his fingers, but kept his attention on Geralt. His head against Duncan's chest, Rhys listened to his heartbeat, strong and fast. The first soft touch of Geralt's fingertips to his thigh made Rhys flinch a little in surprise. He had his eyes closed and focused only on Geralt's hands.

***

The way Rhys arranged himself was inviting. Enticing, and meant to be, Geralt was sure. It was working. Rhys jumped a tiny bit in surprise when Geralt reached out and ran his fingertips along the inside of one pale perfect thigh. Geralt pushed it away, Rhys wasn’t afraid of him. Looking at Duncan over Rhys’ shoulder gave Geralt a boost of confidence, Duncan was grinning widely.

Finding the oil and setting it aside for when he was ready for it Geralt settled in close behind Rhys. Hands wandering over Rhys’ sides, gripping his hips. Geralt explored Rhys’ neck with his lips. Kissing lightly, then sucking at the skin and nipping it with his teeth to hear Rhys moan. He was conscious of where his cock brushed against Rhys’ skin, of the tingling fire the contact left him with but he wanted to make this last.

With each squeezing grip of his hands on Rhys hips he teased Rhys’ cheeks apart, let them close again. Let his cock slide between Rhys’ legs and then up against his ass again. Rhys shuddered and sighed in front of him.

Slicking up his fingers Geralt teased them between Rhys cheeks. Slid two up and down, over his entrance, circling it but not pressing in, until Rhys gave a pitiful whine. Biting down on Rhys’ shoulder at the same time Geralt pushed one finger into Rhys. Not far, just to the first knuckle. It was burning hot and Rhys surprised him when he cried out, trying to rock back and seek more. But Duncan held Rhys firm.

***

Duncan hand trailed down Rhys' spine, making him shiver. "Have some patience." 

Rhys didn't open his eyes but the grin in Duncan's voice was audible. With a little twist of his head, Rhys poked him with a tusk and grinned himself when it made Duncan jump.

Settling down again, Rhys arched his back harder. He wanted more of Geralt and he did want it _now_. But he knew better than to push too hard. A little whining and squirming was fine, he thought. 

Now that he kept still again, Geralt slowly pulled back, pushed into him again. Rhys turned his head into Duncan's chest and moaned, caught between pleasure and frustration. He reached up to touch Duncan, curled one hand around Duncan's arm and held on.

"Please, I want more-" 

Geralt was carefully working him open and it set Rhys' nerves on fire. Spreading his legs wider, Rhys tried to bring his ass up even higher.

***

Duncan jumped a little bit and Geralt saw Rhys’ face pull tight in a smile. Pressing his whole body up against Rhys, Geralt muffled a tiny laugh on Rhys’ skin. 

“You’re having _fun_.” He wasn’t sure what Rhys had done to startle Duncan, but he was sure Rhys was enjoying himself right now.

That revelation curled up in Geralt’s chest and nested there. Urging him on. He laid his head on Rhys’ shoulder and watched Duncan’s face while he worked his finger in Rhys’ ass. “He’s right, be patient. I’ll give you more when I’m ready. Just enjoy this.” To drive his point home Geralt drew his finger out, rubbed over Rhys’ entrance again before slipping it back in. He was in control here, and he could make this last.

Except that his cock was enthusiastic, hard and hot against Rhys’ skin, and pulsing with his own heartbeat at the thought of being surrounded by Rhys’ soft warmth. The keening noises and Rhys’ quiet begging whittled away at Geralt’s control until he gave in and pressed a second finger into Rhys alongside the first.

Rhys’ body took it easily, and Rhys sighed audibly at the sensation, fingers digging into Duncan’s arm for a moment before he sagged into him. Geralt teased them out and back in, fucking Rhys slow and tender, nudging up against Rhys’ prostate when he’d finally rooted Rhys deeply on them. “You want more like this?”

***

"Please, yes." Rhys let Duncan hold his weight for a moment and reached behind himself to touch Geralt. Finding Geralt's thigh, Rhys let his fingers trail over it down to the knee and back up again as high as he could reach. 

It wasn't a touch meant to urge Geralt on and Rhys didn't try to reach for Geralt's cock. He was content to let Geralt set the pace, but he was hungry for as much contact and touch as he could get. Have Duncan's hand in his hair, have Geralt caress him or hold his hand while he fucked Rhys. They hadn't all been together like this since their very first meeting and Rhys wanted to savor all of it.

Half turning his head, Rhys raised his chin, inviting both Duncan and Geralt to touch his face and neck.

***

Duncan watched, fascinated. He focused on Geralt, ready to calm or encourage him if he needed. For Rhys, all he needed to know that Rhys was fine were his touches and the little noises he made. They were so used to each other than Duncan could read him perfectly just from that.

Geralt was getting visible more relaxed and bold. There always was a playfulness between Duncan and Rhys and Geralt fell easily into it as well. 

When Rhys silently asked to be petted, like a cat or a certain bear spirit, Duncan traced the line of his jaw up to his ear, only just touching the ear tip. It made Rhys give a shudder and a laugh and Duncan did it again, just to hear the laugh.

***

Smiling Geralt took the invitation to kiss Rhys’ face, not just his lips, but his cheek, his chin, the place where his skin met his hair. It was soft and sensual and he found that he was having fun too. He tried to keep up a gently persistent pattern with his fingers, but found it was easy to lose himself in the simply joy of touching Rhys and letting Rhys touch him. Hands moving over skin, exploring and discovering. Mapping new territory.

Every time he glanced up at Duncan, his chest beat powerfully at the satisfaction he saw there. Geralt even felt a little inherently elated with himself, that he _could_ do this. 

Giving himself a few strokes, Geralt added more oil, took note of how Rhys arched back when he withdrew his fingers. He unconsciously held his breath when he pressed his cock up to Rhys’ entrance, staring at Duncan over Rhys’ shoulder.

When Geralt’s cock breached Rhys easily, he sucked a breath in further, closing his eyes and letting his open mouth fall onto Rhys’ shoulder. It wasn’t that he’d never felt this before, it was that there was usually so much else going on, fear, pain, distraction, to war with his pleasure. Here and now it was pure, unadulterated, and Gods it was overwhelming. It took everything he had not to come at the tight heat that encased him, and Rhys’ squirming and moans did nothing to help.

Geralt found his breath, and it rushed out of him in a ragged laugh. Wrapping Rhys in a tight hug he tried to get him to be still. “Will… you… hold still please, before you’re the death of me.” Geralt was still smiling when he opened his eyes and gave Duncan a look that clearly said, _how do you put up with him?_

With Rhys’ eager wiggles settled for a moment Geralt moved slowly, testing out the best way to roll his hips into Rhys. Paying attention to what elicited the most unguarded noises. After a bit his arms relaxed and he let Rhys move against him again.

***

Rhys was pinned between Geralt and Duncan, with nowhere to go. It was exactly where he wanted to be and he drifted off into astral sight. Into the smell of stone and the tang of salt on his tongue, green and gold flowing together and intertwining. The hum of Geralt's medallion sunk into Rhys' bones. Every time Geralt moved and thrust into Rhys, the gold and green surged like waves running up a beach.

When Geralt let go of him, Rhys pressed against him. He tried to take Geralt deeper, couldn't resist teasing him, squeezing his cock gently.

***

Duncan was holding Rhys' arms - not tightly, but he did keep him from touching himself. It made Rhys whine in protest, squirm a little.

"Don't be greedy." Duncan pulled Rhys higher up on his chest so he could hold him easier. With Geralt on top of him, Duncan was supporting a lot of weight. But he loved this, how Rhys was pushed against him with each thrust. Rhys buried his face between Duncan's arm and his chest and moaned softly, his breath warm on Duncan's skin.

***

Shuffling up close on his knees, Geralt groaned deep in his chest as it forced him into Rhys. He’d held back some, somewhere inside a bit afraid still. Geralt knew he wasn’t as thick as Duncan or even Eskel, but he was longer and that deep seated fear of hurting his partners had never really gone completely away.

Rhys was achingly hot around him though, and clenched on him trying to draw him in. It was irresistible in the end. Wrapping his arms around Rhys to hold onto to Duncan, grasping and finding his hand to squeeze, Geralt let go of his fear. With Rhys’ wanton sounds vivid in his ears, Geralt thrust his hips forward, giving Rhys all of himself.

“Gods you feel good.” Rocking his hips a little harder Geralt found a rhythm, one that drove his lust higher. Each sweet sinking of his cock into Rhys making his groin flare up with icy hot desire.

Mouthing at Rhys neck, Geralt closed his eyes again, losing himself in the sensations. “Duncan, I don’t think I can last.” There was no stopping this now though, Geralt’s body rolled through the motions. Fucking Rhys brutally slow, Geralt gasped and moaned, trying to hold on long enough for Rhys to enjoy this too.

***

There was no way Rhys would last much longer either. Duncan knew this just from hearing his moans and having him shudder in his arms.

Reaching between Rhys' legs, Duncan closed his fingers around Rhys' cock. It got pushed into his loose fist by Geralt's slow thrusts and Duncan matched the rhythm for a time. 

Rhys cried out, muffled against Duncan's chest, and gave Duncan a not quite gentle bite. He bucked his hips, rocking himself between Duncan's hand and Geralt's cock. 

With Rhys' low keening in his ears and Geralt's moans, Duncan stroked Rhys faster. He wanted to see him come while Geralt was still fucking him, draw Geralt into his orgasm with it. Duncan didn't have to see what he was doing, he knew exactly how to touch Rhys. How fast, how firm, when to stop teasing and when to speed up. 

Fingers digging into Duncan's arms, Rhys strained against Geralt's weight and Duncan's hold on him. He jerked convulsively and hot cum spilled over Duncan's fingers and on his stomach. Rhys' breaths came in quick gasps and he sagged in Duncan's arms.

***

Rhys rocked under Geralt, pushing himself back to take more of Geralt’s cock. Trying desperately to fill himself up with it. Duncan’s hand moving between himself and Rhys hardly registered to Geralt. With every hard thrust he slowly drove Rhys up against Duncan, making Rhys quiver and moan.

Legs shaking more from the overwhelming pleasure than effort, Geralt stopped trying to hold himself back. He fucked up into Rhys, let him have every deep hard thrust while he licked and kissed the back of Rhys neck. The white hot shock of bliss when Rhys’ jerked, body clamping down around Geralt’s cock, sent waves of rapture pulsing up his spine.

Balls drawn tight, Geralt stilled, unable to move as Rhys’ body milked him of his cum. “Oh. Gods…” Thrusting erratically, chasing the last vapors of his own bliss and Rhys’, Geralt finally rested his head on the back of Rhys’ neck. “That was…” There were no worlds, and Geralt giggled.

Slumping off to the side Geralt was giddy. He grabbed at Rhys’s leg, ignoring the fact that Rhys was half blitzed and plastered against Duncan’s chest for support still. “Come here and kiss me please?” Geralt couldn’t keep the playful grin off his face.

He’d fucked Rhys, and it was wonderful. All he wanted now was for Rhys to snuggle up to him and kiss him, pet him and see Rhys’ smile. Duncan’s too. He wanted one of his orks on each side of him.

***

Duncan very carefully tipped Rhys over and into Geralt's arm. It was obvious that Rhys would not be going anywhere for the near future. He was still quivering all over, breathing only gradually slowing down. 

Deciding that room temperature water would be fine Duncan went to the table for the bowl and some cloth and came back to clean Rhys and Geralt up. They were both pretty out of it, hugging each other and kissing lazily. When he was done, Duncan stood for a bit and just watched.

The red flush of arousal slowly vanished from their skin, scars and tattoo lines standing out on their bodies, vibrant against the fading pink. Rhys was curled up against Geralt's chest, with Geralt holding him close and pressing his nose into Rhys' hair.

Duncan joined them, nestling into Geralt from behind and throwing an arm over both of them. He drew the sheets halfway up and sighed happily. With the smile still on Geralt's face and Rhys holding on to him, it wasn't really necessary to ask, but Duncan did it anyway. "How do you two feel?"

Rhys' voice was muffled because he didn't seem to want to let go of Geralt. He reached up and ran a finger over Geralt’s jaw. "We should do this again because it was amazing. Thank you."

***

The smooth low tone of Duncan's voice soaked into Geralt's bones, made a home there where it belonged, and was a minute before Geralt realized Duncan was waiting for a response. "You were both wonderful. I'm glad you both enjoyed it, because it felt glorious for me."

Worming his way back into Duncan's arms further Geralt dragged Rhys' tired form with him. Inside he was thankful for Duncan's presence and the confidence he drew from it. Geralt really didn't know how to please another man this way but Duncan had been there to tip Rhys over the edge for him. To remind Rhys that this was _rare_ and required patience so Geralt didn't have to.

Sighing contentedly, Geralt petted Rhys and focused on the heat where his skin touched Duncan's. Duncan who not all that long ago had been teasing his cock and cutting open his skin. A shiver ran over Geralt at the memory. Maybe the orks were right. Who better to ask to hurt him than someone who cared so much.

"We should do it _all_ again." Geralt smiled into Rhys' hair. "Not right now though. I just want to sleep. You've worn out your witcher."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Info:  
> anal sex  
> lots of fluff


	6. Yourself You Cannot Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“And you said you want to feel some hope of release, so I think Eskel went up to your room and took some of your things. Clothes and whatnot, piled them over here in the corner, but you can’t reach them on your chain.” Rhys’ hand scribbled furiously across the page, small grin on his face, one fang showing._
> 
> _Eskel barked out a laugh. “I did what now?!”_
> 
> _“Hush.” Rhys shot Eskel a full grin, and pushed a plate of cheese at him. “Drink your beer. You did whatever we say you did. This is _fun_.” ___  
> Rhys, Geralt, and Eskel delve further into some hard roleplay schemes at the Rosemary & Thyme.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warming:  
> Con Noncon  
> rough sex  
> verbal humiliation  
> playing with a prop knife
> 
> This is a two chapter update! Don't miss chapter 7!

Tipping his tankard on edge, Eskel scraped it over the wood grain of the table. Righting it, he leaned forward and refilled it from the pitcher of Kaedweni Stout sitting between him and Geralt. A leatherbound journal laid open on the table, several pages of writing pressed to one side already.

“You’ll have a bedroll, here by the post.” Geralt leaned over the upside down journal pointing at a quick sketch Rhys had drawn of the Rosemary & Thyme basement on the left-hand page. Rhys drew in a hasty outline. “And you said you want to feel some hope of release, so I think Eskel went up to your room and took some of your things. Clothes and whatnot, piled them over here in the corner, but you can’t reach them on your chain.” Rhys’ hand scribbled furiously across the page, small grin on his face, one fang showing.

Eskel barked out a laugh. “I did what now?!”

“Hush.” Rhys shot Eskel a full grin, and pushed a plate of cheese at him. “Drink your beer. You did whatever we say you did. This is _fun_.”

Stuffing a cube of cheese in his mouth to stifle his laughter, Eskel sighed internally. They really were fucking cute like this, but he would never be able to wrap his head around such an elaborate scheme, keep it straight, and be able to relax into the right frame of mind to play so deeply while doing it like them. 

Back and forth they chatted in front of him. Hands waving animatedly, scooting in the chairs to get closer, then leaning back to think it over.

“I want to be miserable and made to enjoy myself anyway. I’m polluting the astral space around me slowly over time by my own despairing thoughts. It weakens my magic over time.” Rhys stole a piece of cheese off of the plate he’d pushed at Eskel and chewed it slowly.

“I’ve mostly given up on even asking to be let go by now. I didn’t ask you much, because I am terrified you’ll get violent with me.” Rhys pointed at Geralt and Geralt nodded in understanding. “I tried asking Eskel instead.”

“An’ you got nothin’ from me.” Eskel mumbled around his cheese, taking a swig of beer to wash it down.

“Which is…” Rhys wrapped an arm around his stomach, “…I like your coldness in another way. It’s still terrifying.”

“So I’ve left you down there, alone for what? A week or two. Eskel or I stop by and give you food once a day. Make sure you’re alive, but we don’t interact with you, then we leave again. I’m keeping you there for entertainment, just for when I am in the mood.” Rhys picked up his quill and scratched Geralt’s ideas across the page.

Drumming his fingers on the table Geralt continued musing. “I think I decided to keep you there because there was no need to move you. The cellar is only known to us and a friend, its noisy upstairs, no one thinks twice about screaming in a rowdy place like that. I can do _whatever I want_ to you there.”

***

The cellar was dark when Geralt stumbled in with Eskel, the thin crack of light from the candle in the stairs doing little to shed light on it. It didn’t matter, his eyes let him see reasonably well in the pitch black anyway. The lump in the floor was still by the support beam.

Eskel flicked his fingers bringing some candles to life and throwing long shadows across the room. A stifled groan rose from the lump and Geralt approached it. Nudging the blanket loose with the toe of his boot revealed Rhys’ face and he blinked up at Geralt, trying to keep eye contact while adjusting to the light.

“Round of Gwent?” Geralt turned away from Rhys and wandered haphazardly over to the cot where Eskel was taking a seat.

“Alright, I ‘spose.” Eskel dug out cards and shuffled while Geralt searched for his own deck.

They sat for probably twenty minutes, well into the third round, with Geralt in the lead before Eskel nodded off against the wall. Legs pulled up on the cot, he was out cold and even with Geralt prodding at him it didn’t appear he was going to be moving, or sharing his bed.

“Well, fuck.” Dropping his cards in a pile on the floor Geralt grabbed the extra bedroll. Stalked over to Rhys and tossed it out next to him. “You look cozy.” Rhys was laying on his side, hands still shackled behind him in dimeritium, chained to the beam.

Carefully setting his armor out of reach Geralt stripped down to his braies. Eskel had given the ork a pair of pants again at some point, complaining about not letting him freeze, but his chest was bare, Geralt having cut his tunic the rest of the way off.

Dropping down to the bedroll Geralt pulled Rhys’ blanket over them both, forced his leg between Rhys’, and pressed himself flush to him. Fist holding Rhys' hair short and tight in case he decided to try to bite, Geralt pressed his face into Rhys’ neck and smelled him. “I think I’ll sleep here tonight since that asshole passed out on the cot.”

***

Rhys had stayed silent and still, torn between the hope that they would ignore him and the need for human contact. A word or a touch. Being left here in the dark for he didn't even know how long was eating away at him.

Now that he was being touched, he just wanted it to stop. Geralt's leg was pressed hard between his, squeezing his balls. And the brutal grip in his hair told Rhys exactly what would happen if he dared to move away. 

He drew a deep breath that turned into a choked sob halfway through, body tense and stiff. Maybe, if he kept still, Geralt would fall asleep and wouldn't want anything more. Would just leave in the morning.

Closing his eyes, Rhys searched for his connection to Bear. It had come back, but it was weakening every day. It was getting harder and harder for him to hear Bear's voice, to feel his presence. He couldn't help but wonder if Bear was giving up on him, would abandon him eventually. 

Geralt shifted, pulled Rhys even closer. He licked at Rhys' neck, gave him a bite that pulled a quiet groan from Rhys. It didn't hurt but it made Rhys' skin crawl. He couldn't keep from shuddering. The memory of how Geralt had made him swallow his cum, had fucked Rhys until he came, was playing in his mind. 

Between his thighs, Geralt's leg moved and another shudder ran over Rhys. He tried to focus on his fear and disgust, to try and forget how good Geralt's hand on his cock had been. How he had known exactly how to touch Rhys to make him come. 

Rhys turned his face into the bedroll to hide from all of it.

***

“I can feel it when you shake like that. I won’t lie and say I don’t like it, you already know I do.” For now Geralt decided not to punish Rhys for looking away, hiding his face from him. Geralt would rather hear Rhys voice an answer than force him to look him in the eyes, and Geralt was sure he could only drag so much from Rhys in this state.

“You were thinking about me, weren't you?” Giving Rhys’ neck another lick, Geralt trapped the tender skin between his lips and sucked at it. Not hard but persistent, and Geralt didn’t stop until Rhys gave a muffled moan bereft of pleasure. “Remember, I don’t like it when you lie to me.” Geralt’s hand tightened in Rhys' hair in warning. The formerly neat braid was falling apart and it gave Geralt an idea.

“Tell me the truth about what you were thinking about when you shuddered and I’ll get your brush and braid your hair for you tomorrow.” After so long without a kind touch Geralt was willing to bet this was a good bribe. 

He waited, lips lightly pressed to Rhys’ neck, one hand at the small of his back still holding himself flush with Rhys’ body, to see if Rhys would take the bait.

***

The thought of Geralt touching him like this, of doing something so normal like braiding Rhys' hair, drew another shudder from Rhys and a small sound of revulsion. That he was trying to use it as a bribe kindled a spark of anger in Rhys' chest.

"I was thinking about how much I hate you touching me. And I would rather cut my hair off than have you come near it with a brush." Rhys turned his head again to look at Geralt while he spoke. Seeing the open greed and cruel enjoyment on his face fanned the spark of anger into flame.

With his whole weight suddenly slamming into Geralt, Rhys threw him on his back. Twisting his hands painfully to try and get a grip on the arm holding his head, Rhys aimed a bite at Geralt's neck. He didn't care what happened after, he wanted to rip Geralt's throat out, have tusks and fangs slice clean through skin and flesh.

***

With a surprised grunt Geralt yanked hard on Rhys’ hair, holding it firm. He could feel the delicious scrape of of Rhys’ treacherous teeth just on the surface of his skin. Laughing with a strangely disturbed enthusiasm Geralt flicked his fingers forming Yrden. Relaxing his hold when Rhys fell limp in his grip.

Rolling Rhys back onto his side Geralt kept ahold of his hair and sucked a hard bruise into his neck. Rocked his hips up into Rhys’ own, rolling his hardening cock against Rhys crotch. “Mmm, that felt good. I love it when you fight me. Don’t worry, I’ll give you a chance to fight again in a moment.” 

Hand wandering down from Rhys’ back, Geralt wormed it into his pants and grabbed a handful of ass, squeezing it and rubbing himself against Rhys. “I was worried I’d broken you already. But I haven’t yet. I will though. Maybe then I’ll let you go.”

Geralt got up. Shucked off his braies and reached for the ties on Rhys pants. Rhys struggled ineffectually, the Yrden sucking all his strength, trying to get away when Geralt stripped them off and left him naked again. Dragging him to the end of his chain, Geralt propped Rhys on his knees, arms straining out behind him. Then he stepped back and with a practiced move of his fingers he canceled his Sign.

Leaning back against the wall, Geralt stared at Rhys, lust in his eyes. He stroked his cock and held up a vial of oil for Rhys to see. “You can fight me, but if you bite me, this will go away just like last time. Maybe you liked it that way though. My fingers stuffed in your ass covered in nothing but your spit. You say your disgusted by my touch but you cock tells me you’re lying to yourself.”

Coming forward to kneel in front of Rhys, just out of reach, Geralt palmed Rhys’ cock. Ran a teasing finger down its length, then flicked the tip hard. “The flesh doesn’t lie, even if the man does.”

***

Another flick to his hardening cock made Rhys flinch. With the Sign extinguished, his strength had returned, such as it still was with how Geralt kept him. Chained, in the dark and with barely enough to eat. The Yrden has severed another strand of Rhys' connection to his mentor, the dissolving thread straining to unravel completely in his mind.

"The flesh has its own mind and it has nothing to do with what I want." Why he even tried to discuss this with Geralt, Rhys didn't know. It wouldn't get him anywhere. But he couldn't keep silent. 

He also couldn't keep from moaning when Geralt stroked his cock, fingers curled around the shaft just right. Gripping the chain behind him with both hands, Rhys forced himself to stay still and give Geralt nothing. At least as little as possible. He kept his face carefully blank, his breathing controlled, and tried to withdraw from what was happening. 

A slap to his cock shattered what composure he had gathered. The next one came before the pain from the first one had even reached its peak and Rhys cried out. He clenched his jaw to keep quiet.

Geralt aimed another blow and stopped at the last moment, laughing softly at how Rhys cringed. He circled a fingertip around the head of Rhys' cock, easing the foreskin down. Rhys tensed up with the urge to buck his hips, to moan. Behind his back, he clutched the chain, let the shackles dig into his skin for some pain to distract him.

***

“You want this. I can _smell_ it.” Backing up a little bit Geralt bent his head down. Took Rhys’ cock in his mouth, the head flushed with blood. The drum beat of Rhys’ heart made it pulse against his tongue, and Geralt flicked over Rhys' slit.

Legs shaking, Rhys’ jerked back, pulling his cock from Geralt’s mouth. Lightning quick Geralt reached a hand between Rhys legs and took hold of his balls. Gave them a long firm squeeze. “Uh, uh. Don’t you run from me.”

Holding up the small bottle of oil in his other hand Geralt gave Rhys a solemn look. “You wouldn’t want to lose this again, would you?”

Rhys didn’t answer. Only biting his lip to keep himself quiet as Geralt tugged on his balls and drew him back forward to the edge of his chain. Stretching his arms out behind him a little further even than before.

Taking the head of Rhys’ cock back in his mouth again, Geralt played his tongue over the slit. Setting the oil down next to himself for a moment Geralt firmly grabbed the base of Rhys cock, pushed the tip of his tongue under the foreskin and swirled it around there, tasting Rhys more fully.

He moaned and gripped Rhys balls tightly, doing it again, while letting the forefinger from that hand wander back behind them to caress lightly over Rhys’ hole. Popping off Geralt licked a drop of precum from Rhys' now hard cock. Ran his finger back and forth over Rhys’ entrance, teasing it.

“I can _taste_ how much you want this.” Geralt licked his lips, mouth still open and breath heavy. “You know, I have taken men before you. Fucked them for my pleasure. And they cried. Some of them fought me, like you. But none of them got hard for me like you do. It’s why I keep you.” Stroking Rhys cock just perfectly Geralt drew a strangled moan from Rhys, playing his thumb over the now sensitive head.

***

Rhys didn't think Geralt would only be interested in fingering him this time. He had had time to think about this and his thoughts had kept running in circles, trapped and helpless. Just like Rhys himself.

One hand stroking Rhys' cock, the other holding Rhys' balls and teasing his hole, Geralt was focused on what he was doing. Rhys didn't dare look away from him and couldn't help but shudder at the sight of Geralt's cock. He didn't want any of this and he most of all didn't want Geralt to fuck him, to force his cock into him. 

Still, he couldn't avert his gaze and his imagination ran wild with scenarios of how it would happen. With Rhys on his stomach under Geralt, or on all fours in front of him, hands pulling him back onto Geralt's cock. Rhys bit his lip again and balled his hands into fists so hard his nails cut into his palms. He became aware that he was making a low keening sound, a drawn out whimper.

Geralt let go of him for a moment and Rhys didn't move. Where would he go. With some oils on his fingers, Geralt grabbed Rhys' balls again and pushed one finger into Rhys' hole. Out of a reflex, Rhys tried to rise on his knees to escape, pulling painfully on his balls. He settled back, driving the finger even deeper into himself.

"Please-" Another slap to his cock, punishment for his struggling, cut Rhys' voice off as effectively as a gag, stealing away his breath. Tears of pain stung at his eyes and he blinked.

***

Gods it was so arousing, watching the struggle inside this ork. His body so interested and his mind so terrified. Geralt’s cock twitched at the way Rhys’ ass clenched hard around the intrusion of his finger, anticipating the way that desperate clutch would feel around it later. 

Shifting his hand from Rhys balls to grip the head of his cock hard, Geralt bent forward. Placed a none to gentle bite on Rhys' nipple. Another lower over the edge of his ribcage, so easy to do when his panicked breaths made it stand out. One over the jut of Rhys’ hip bone, scraping his teeth over it. Fucking his finger into Rhys deeply, dragging it over his prostate and enjoying the way he involuntarily thrust his hip into Geralt’s mouth — already at the edge of his chain.

Geralt stared up at Rhys’ eyes full of horror, a teasing smile on his face as he licked down Rhys’ hip to his cock. Ran his tongue up the length and then sealed his mouth to the side of his shaft. Set his teeth against the tender flesh and let them scrape over it lightly, sucking hard. 

At the same time Geralt fucked up into Rhys with two fingers. Closed his eyes and shivered at the choked sob he’d wrung from Rhys. He wanted so badly to touch himself, but he didn’t want to give Rhys the chance to run away. 

Gods, maybe someday he could get Rhys to the point where he could make Rhys touch him, and that would be so good. Shackled hands stroking him while he fondled Rhys’ body any way he wanted.

Fisting his hand in Rhys’ hair again, Geralt nosed into his neck, inhaled the smells there. Acrid fear, overwhelmingly laced with arousal. Salty, earthy, tangy. “I _will_ fuck you tonight. I know you want it.” Geralt let his own cock brush up along Rhys’. Hot and heavy. Longer and aching to be inside the ork. “I want you to think about it. Decide. I can make you weak and force it in you, or you can take it yourself.”

Geralt grinned against Rhys neck and licked it. “But that will mean admitting to yourself you want it.” Pulling Rhys’ hair hard Geralt grabbed his balls and started biting his way down the other side of Rhys’ body. Nipple. “Don’t answer me yet.” Ribcage. Hipbone. Mouth open and teeth showing over the head of Rhys’ straining cock, Geralt stared up at Rhys and swallowed him down to the base.

***

Rhys gave a cry, no way to tell even for himself if it was pleasure, pain or fear or everything all at once. He arched his head back, against the fist gripping his hair. Let Geralt punish him for looking away, Rhys didn't care. He didn't want to see this.

Eskel was watching them from the cot, eyes glinting in the low light of the candles. But Rhys had learned not to expect any help from him. He squeezed his eyes shut. It only made Geralt's mouth on his cock more present in his mind, impossible to ignore. Every swirl of the tongue over the swollen head gave Rhys a shock of pleasure, racing up his spine.

It didn't take much for him to decide - there was no way he would participate in this. If Geralt wanted him, he could take him. Maybe it would hurt less if Rhys gave in, but he would gladly trade pain for not losing his hold on himself. He wouldn't hand himself over to Geralt like this.

When Geralt came up for air, he gave a painful yank on Rhys' hair to make him look down again. "Well, what will it be?"

Sucking down air in a gasp, Rhys showed his fangs in a defiant snarl. "If you want me, you can work for it. I won't help you because I. Don't. Want. This."

***

Letting go of Rhys’ hair Geralt brought his hand across Rhys cock two times quickly, making Rhys choke on his breath and try to pull away from the pain. Geralt tightened his grip on Rhys’ balls though, tugged them roughly keeping Rhys from escaping as a third slap landed and Rhys’ eyes leaked tears.

“You want me to make it hurt? If you want me to hurt you so bad, I will.” Geralt’s voice was a low menacing growl.

A few fluid movements of his fingers and the purple runes of Yrden flared to life around Rhys again, forcing him to slump backward, ass on his heels. Geralt knelt by his side putting one arm around his waist to support him, lifting him back up into a kneeling position. With his other hand he pulled Rhys knees wider apart. 

“You will regret lying to me about what you want.” It was such a cold statement, the opposite of the gentle way Geralt caressed the inside of Rhys thigh, slowly working higher. Biting at Rhys’ neck, Geralt marveled at the way Rhys felt weak in his arms, helpless. 

He flicked at Rhys’ sac, feeling the pained moan as it vibrated out of Rhys’ vocal cords. Did it again, harder this time. Let his hand wander back over the inside of Rhys’ thigh, before slapping it hard enough to leave the outline of his hand in stark red against the pale skin there.

Geralt attacked Rhys’ inner thigh and cock relentlessly until both were hot under his hand. When the tears ran down Rhys face unchecked he struck Rhys hard on the ass with the hand that hand been steadying him, swinging it up and catching the edge of his cheek with it. The Yrden had faded but Rhys still hung against him limply and Geralt let him fall slowly to the stones.

Going to his armor piled by the wall Geralt unsheathed his trophy knife from one boot. It was an identical replica that he’d commissioned from Hattori. Exactly the same as his real trophy knife except with a blunt edge, and he’d already discussed with Rhys that he might bring it out one day.

“You said you’d rather cut your hair off then let me come near it with a brush.” Geralt gave a gleaming smile. “Should I?” Stalking slowly closer to Rhys lying on his side on the cold stones, Geralt dropped down, one knee on either side of him pinning Rhys to the floor. “Or… should I trim your pointy ears instead?”

Tracing the steel tip of the knife in a round shape around the top of Rhys’ ear Geralt laughed. He pressed just hard enough with the metal edge to make it feel real. Held at an angle it would feel sharp, but wouldn’t cut.

The blade traveled down from Rhys’ ear, along the thrumming artery in his neck. Geralt stood back up, put a bare foot on Rhys chest and rolled him not to gently on his back. “Get back up on your knees.”

***

On the cot Eskel watched. He'd shifted slowly, as silently as he could to lay down on his side. When he'd heard Geralt tell Rhys that he was going to fuck him, Eskel hadn't been able to fake sleep any longer.

The strong smell of arousal inundated Eskel every time he inhaled. There was lacing of fear to it, and the heady tang of adrenaline. But overwhelming, everything smelled of saltwater, and fresh skin.

The way Geralt was threatening Rhys now, Eskel was somewhat doubtful if they would really follow through on Geralt's promise to fuck Rhys. But it had drawn his attention. Made his heart rate jump and his breathing speed. So he laid and watched and waited.

***

Struggling to move and his limbs shaking with fear and pain, Rhys hurried to obey. He clenched his jaw to keep his sobs quiet but couldn't hold back the tears. Fear and pain overruled defiance and dignity and he knelt, spread his legs to allow Geralt unhindered access to anything he wanted. 

Despite everything, Rhys' cock still was achingly hard and he couldn't but wonder if Geralt was right. There must be something wrong with him if he stayed hard through all of this. He couldn't _want_ this. But if he didn't, why did his body keep reacting like this.

He had left himself a little space so his arms weren't quite so stretched. Maybe Geralt would be too distracted by other things to notice. Rhys was glad about one pain less to endure.

When Geralt stepped closer, knife still in hand, Rhys tensed up. He forced himself not to look away. Geralt's bright smile made Rhys shiver. At the thought of having Geralt's cock forced into his ass, having Geralt fuck him, Rhys' cock throbbed harder. Rhys gave a whimper that turned into a moan when Geralt touched his cock.

***

“See, I know when I am right. I’ll show you just how much you want this. Watch.” Running the back of his fingers up the length of Rhys’ shaft Geralt teased it lightly. Watched as it twitched and jerked satisfyingly at the touch.

Putting the knife up to Rhys’ neck again, right below the side of his jaw Geralt growled. “I said, watch!” When Rhys looked down terrified, Geralt did it again. Ran his fingertips around the head and laughed hollowly, darting forward to give Rhys’ jaw a surprising kiss. “See, your cock is glad I found you. Even if you lie to yourself and tell me you’re not.”

Going back down on his knees Geralt picked up the oil bottle with his other hand, knife resting along the base of Rhys’ neck now. He uncorked it with his teeth and spit the cork off to the side, uncaring of where it landed at this point. Drizzling a line up his cock and back down Geralt set the bottle off to the side again. 

Geralt watched Rhys’ face. The ork’s eyes were fixed on his cock while Geralt stroked himself. Cock throbbing at the mix of fear and arousal he saw, Geralt took a steadying breath, his mind flashing back to the hot slick pleasure of Rhys clenching tightly around him before.

Moving his oil slick fingers back between Rhys’ widely spread legs, Geralt pushed his balls aside with the back of his hand and circled Rhys’ hole. He teased Rhys, pressing the pads of his fingers against the tender skin there, rubbing over his hole, and then dipping just one finger inside to tug at the rim. When Geralt finally pushed both fingers back into Rhys, a sweet guttural sound broke free from him, followed by a hard sob and unchecked tears.

Fingers fucking into Rhys slow and deep, Geralt leaned close. “You can cry for me if you need to.” Still holding the knife, Geralt grabbed Rhys’ hair, tilting his head back and forcing Rhys to look at him. Mouthing at Rhys’ jaw, Geralt tasted the salt there and couldn’t stop himself from licking at Rhys’ wet cheek. “But your body will _enjoy_ this. I will make it. You will come, shaking on my cock like a wanton little whore. Gasping. And moaning. Aching inside for more.”

With every word Geralt thrust his fingers over Rhys’ prostate, making his breath stutter involuntarily. By the time he withdrew his fingers Rhys’ cock was wet with precum, and his face with new tears. Sitting on the cold stone floor Geralt pushed Rhys’ legs wider. Fitting his his hips underneath Rhys and stroking his cock while he traced the blade down Rhys’ ribcage to press it up to his gut.

Lining the head of his cock up Geralt let it rest snug up against Rhys hole. Pressing at it but not breaching it. “You know what I want. You can give it to me or I can hurt you for real and then you can give it to me anyway. Your choice, pointy ears.” Planting his feet Geralt lifted his hips, slowly giving Rhys less and less room to escape.

***

Shuddering with disgust, the trail of Geralt's spit on his face burning hotly, Rhys gave in and slowly sank down. His weight drove Geralt's cock into him, opening him up. 

With his legs shaking and his hands tied behind him, it was difficult to keep his balance. Rhys had to shift his legs even further apart and cried out when that pushed Geralt's cock in halfway, much faster than he had planned. 

He had to pause for breath, and to get used to it. Geralt watched him eagerly, clearly enjoying Rhys in tears and struggling to take him. He thrust his hips up and drew another cry from Rhys. 

It didn't hurt, not nearly as much as Rhys had feared. Geralt had been generous with the oil. But it made Rhys want to scream, made him want to tear his skin off, to get rid of Geralt's touch. His heart was racing and he could barely get enough air between his sobs. 

Geralt let him move at his own pace, hands to Rhys' hips to keep him from losing his balance. Rhys would have preferred to be helpless. To have Geralt use force on him and take his choice away. But he was too terrified Geralt would use the knife on him - he didn't think for one second that this was just an empty threat. 

With one last push downwards, Rhys settled on top of Geralt. He moaned at Geralt's cock deep inside of him, hot and hard and pulsing in time with Geralt's heartbeat. Rhys' own cock was aching to be touched, precum leaving a trail down the shaft. There was no way he would be able to keep it together once Geralt started touching him. Already, pleasure was coiling in his groin, winding ever tighter.

Rhys couldn't bring himself to move, to fuck himself on Geralt's cock. He knew that Geralt would make him but he couldn't lift himself up again. Maybe Geralt would be content with fucking up into him, would take him and not force Rhys to have a part in this.

***

A throbbing pressure spread over the head of Geralt’s cock as Rhys’ body strained to open up for him. And when it finally gave way it was pure hot bliss. Then Rhys adjusted his legs and all at once Geralt sank into him deeper, Rhys’ body swallowing his cock easily. Geralt inhaled sharply through his nose, closing his eyes for a moment, his balls tightening and his body threatening to overwhelm him with pleasure. Fuck. It was tight and hot, everything he remembered and more. 

When Geralt opened his eyes again, looked up at Rhys, body shuddering above him, he had to bite his own cheek to stop from making noise. The struggle was apparent as Rhys tried to hold himself together while he gave in, gave up on everything. His face held a look of complete revulsion, but the moan he uttered as he seated himself all the way down on Geralt’s cock sounded of nothing but arousal. 

Rhys looked down at him, hopeless and broken, but Geralt was sure it wouldn’t last. If he hadn’t threatened him so much, he would have tried to bite and fight. The anger would be back again he was certain. The fight he loved so much wasn’t gone yet, just for now.

Now that Rhys was settled and stable, Geralt let go of his hip with the hand that held his trophy knife. Bringing the flat back of the blade up the base of Rhys swollen cock, Geralt drew it up the underside collecting the trail of precum that glistened there. He brought it to his mouth while Rhys watched and licked the blade clean, watched Rhys shiver hard.

Setting the knife within easy reach, Geralt wrapped his fingers teasingly loose around Rhys’ cock and stroked it. Playing his thumb over the sensitive spot where Rhys’ foreskin attached under the head just to hear him fight to keep his pleasured noises quiet. With every light stroke he swirled the mix of fear, disgust, desire, and pleasure, blending it further. 

Geralt wanted to feel Rhys’ body move on his cock. Wanted to come inside Rhys, driven over the edge by Rhys’ body orgasming around him. It was clear his body was interested; he just needed to get Rhys to let go of the ridiculous idea that he didn’t want to enjoy this. He decided to ignore all of Rhys pleas. To show him what his body wanted, and how it wanted it.

Tightening his grip Geralt gave two firm strokes and took his hand away. Rhys’ body clenched on him and he waited. Breath coming in short gasps Rhys stared at him blankly. Taking hold of him again Geralt teased his cock lightly. Slow steady strokes. Fingers circling the sensitive head until Rhys whined high in the back of his throat. And then again he gave Rhys a firm grip, touching him exactly how he had when he’d pulled the orgasm from him before. A few strokes hard and fast. Then he took his hand away.

The power curled inside his chest, almost as pleasing as the ache in his cock, still sitting hard and hot in Rhys’ ass waiting for him to give in and move. He could tease Rhys over and over again. Chained and spitted on his cock, there was nothing Rhys could do but suffer the pleasure or seek his own release.

***

The heel of his hand pressed hard against his crotch through his leathers, Eskel bit his lip to keep quiet. Laying in his side on the cot he was transfixed. Geralt hadn’t just threatened to fuck Rhys, _he was actually doing it_. Geralt, who was terrified of fucking men. Was lying on the floor with his cock buried in Rhys’ ass. Confidently. Threatening Rhys, making him give in and take it.

Even if it was all an act and Eskel knew it, it was both shocking and one of the most arousing things he’d ever witnessed.

Eskel didn’t even want to blink, lest he miss a moment of this fascinating show. He tried not to think about how his cock ached between his legs, pressing hard against the confines of his leathers. He shouldn’t be so turned on, but it wasn’t the threats or the roughness. Fuck. Even if it was—Geralt and Rhys has said that there was nothing strange about it. It was the confidence and the fact that it was _Geralt_. And _Rhys_. And they looked amazing. Rhys looked so vulnerable as he sobbed and gasped, legs spread wide over Geralt’s pale hips.

His hand was loosening the laces on his leathers before he really knew it, and Eskel cursed himself internally for allowing himself to be so enthralled. But he couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to. As quietly as he could he slipped a hand inside his braies. Touched himself slowly, stroking from base to tip as he watched.

***

When Geralt touched him just right, Rhys couldn't help but thrust his hips forward. It drew a loud moan from him, Geralt's cock slipping out partway and easily back in. It grazed Rhys' prostate on the way, giving him a wave of pleasure. 

As it ran through his body, it made him tense up, squeezing Geralt's cock and only added more silvery shocks racing up his spine. It was a chain reaction Rhys couldn't stop.

Soon, he found himself moaning at Geralt's slightest touch, his cock aching for it. Every time Geralt took his hands away, Rhys had a moment of clarity and the chance to rebuilt what was left of his composure. But those moments got shorter and shorter, until he was lost.

Lost enough to start fucking himself on Geralt's cock, chasing the pleasure like a drug. Geralt rewarded him with more touches, drove his lust higher but never high enough.

Watching Rhys with rapt attention, Geralt had started to twitch under him, thighs quivering. Rhys bit his lip and pulled the chain behind him hard, let the shackles bite into his wrists again. He wanted the pain, needed it to regain some kind if control.

With Geralt's cock buried in him to the hilt, filling him up, Rhys drew a long shuddering breath that ended in a drawn-out moan. Paying close attention to what made Geralt moan and even thrust up into him, Rhys tried to give it to him. To make him lose control and to come. 

Rhys did not think for one minute it would be over once Geralt had come. But _this_ part of it would be over. He would no longer be forced to take Geralt's cock up his ass and pleasure himself with it. 

Raising himself up on his knees, Rhys let Geralt slip out of himself almost all the way and slowly took him inside again. Did it all over again, a little faster and with more force. Soon he had found the exact way Geralt liked.

***

Pleasure crashed over Geralt, running up his body like a wave up the shore, soaking into his skin and mixing with the heady feeling of power there. It left him blissfully aware of how in control he was. Rhys’ movements had started out small and hesitant. Of course he’d been in denial and unable to admit to himself how good it felt, but Geralt’s persistence had paid off.

Now Rhys rose up and dropped back down. Riding Geralt in earnest, stuttered moans of desire forced from his throat each time Geralt’s cock was buried back inside his ass. Eventually Rhys found a rhythm and kept it, body clenching around Geralt, sliding almost all the way off before relaxing and taking him to the base again.

Geralt couldn’t keep himself quiet anymore. Soft grunts and quiet moans slipped out of him as Rhys rode him a little faster, working his body over Geralt’s. Offering Rhys a reward, Geralt stroked Rhys’ cock, wrapping his hand all the way around it and gripping it firmly. He ran his thumb up the swollen vein on the underside, each stroke slow and deliberate. Not trying to make Rhys come yet, only heightening the intensity of his pleasure.

When Rhys lowered himself onto Geralt’s cock, Geralt planted his feet and thrust his hips up. Met him halfway and fucked into Rhys. It made Rhys cry out in shock and Geralt squeezed the base of Rhys cock hard to keep him from coming yet. He did it again, and again. The ring of his thumb and forefinger holding back Rhys' orgasm from him.

The whole room smelled of sex and arousal sweat, skin, and fresh saltwater. Of himself and Rhys and… Eskel. Geralt turned his head to the side and he immediately connected with Eskel’s dark honey eyes in the dim light. Lying on his side on the cot, Eskel didn’t look away. His lip was bitten between his teeth, and a strand of mahogany hair was sweat-stuck to the side of his face.

Leathers pushed down, Eskel’s hand was moving haltingly in his braies and it made Geralt’s heart jump in his chest. Eskel, who was always in control. Never interested in these types of roleplaying scenes. Only here to watch over them. He’d driven Eskel to touch himself, and it gave Geralt such a rush of power he grabbed Rhys hips hard thrusting up into him.

“This could have been you. If you hadn’t fallen asleep on me. I would rather have fucked you but only he was still awake.” Geralt stared right at Eskel when he spoke, loud, clear, and harsh.

Eskel gasped loudly and his hips jerked forward, hand faltering in its movements. Face stunned and painted with arousal Eskel stared back for a moment before letting out an embarrassed moan and burying his head in his pillow.

Nearly giddy with power at pushing Eskel so far Geralt let out a short barking laugh. Gods the look on Eskel’s face when he’d come was almost enough to push Geralt over himself. He fucked up into Rhys with a renewed vigor. “I guess he liked watching you ride me like a whore.”

With one hand still gripping Rhys’ hip hard Geralt returned to teasing his cock mercilessly. He wanted Rhys to come and he was going to pull it out of him. Drawing his hand back he slapped Rhys’ cock again, watching it sway back into place. “For saying you don’t want to ride me, your cock’s still fucking hard.” Then he stroked it again, listening to Rhys gasp and whine.

***

For a moment, Rhys was taken in by the sight of Eskel watching them, getting driven to his orgasm by Geralt's words. He almost stopped what he was doing.

Geralt's cock pistoning into him brought him back and he shuddered, forced himself to sink down on it and take it. Obviously, Geralt liked that and used a hand on Rhys' hip to get him back into the rhythm they had had before. 

A slap to his cock made Rhys falter and cry out in pain. Without thinking, he lifted himself on his knees to escape the sting and the threat of another slap, but there was nowhere to go. The cry turned into a loud moan when Geralt took Rhys in hand again, stroking him just hard enough to keep him on edge.

Rhys sped up, fucked Geralt faster and tried to take him all the way with every thrust. Geralt's moans got louder and Rhys desperately hoped it would be over soon. He didn't care what happened after, he just wanted Geralt to come. To come and go soft so Rhys could stop riding him.

"Please--" The word found its way out between gasps and moans and Rhys didn't know if he was begging for Geralt to come or to make him come. The hand on his cock was doing all the right things, squeezing the swollen tip, dragging down his shaft. The callouses on Geralt's hand provided delicious friction and the ache from getting slapped only made Rhys' cock more sensitive to it.

***

Hearing Rhys beg drove Geralt higher. He sped up his hand jerking Rhys' cock, running his thumb over the leaking slit at the top with each pass. "That's it, Rhys. If you you want it to end you have to come for me."

At the shocked look on his face Geralt gave a satisfied smile. "Did you think I hadn't paid attention upstairs? That I didn't know your _name_?"

Arching his hips up Geralt forced his cock back up into Rhys. Regaining the rhythm that Rhys had faltered on moments ago. Rhys lifted up and rode down hard on him in time with Geralt's hand on his cock. 

Another painful squeeze to the swollen tip, with his thumb circling it afterward made Rhys cry out, sobbing painfully as he gave up his orgasm to Geralt. Hot come spurted out over Geralt's fingers, landing on his abdomen and running down Rhys' shaft as his body shuddered and rocked back, rooted on Geralt's cock.

Instead of stopping Geralt let go of Rhys' cock and grabbed both hips roughly. He brought Rhys up and forced him down onto his cock again and again, seeking his own release in that tight oil-slick heat. Grunting and grinding up into him, Geralt spilled deep inside Rhys with a loud groan. "Fuck yes. Mine. My toy, for my pleasure. Nothing more."

Resting his head back on the cold stone Geralt took a moment to come back to his senses. His cock throbbed in Rhys' ass, slowly softening. With his hands he urged Rhys up until he could withdraw himself. Rhys was crying, swallowing hard, and shaking. 

Standing up Geralt kicked the knife away and bent down. With one arm under Rhys' arms in the back and the other behind his bent knees Geralt scooped him up. Carried him back to the bed rolls and laid him down on his side. Leaving him there for a moment so he could shake off his role, Geralt went over to the cot.

Eskel no longer had his face buried in the pillow but he did look a little disconcerted. Sitting up on the bed he took Geralt's face in his hand and shared a brief kiss when he approached. "Let's take him upstairs." At Geralt's nod, they both returned to Rhys.

Eskel squatted behind him to undo Rhys' shackles and Geralt laid a blanket over him. Eskel petted Rhys' hair, wrapped the blanket solidly around him and hoisted him up like a bride. Resting Rhys' head limply against his shoulder, Eskel asked softly, "How are you feeling?"

***

"Mmhm." Rhys nestled into Eskel. He was too exhausted to do more that that while he was carried up the stairs to the bed. 

Rolling out of Eskel's arms on to the bed, Rhys drifted. There were deep aches all over his body - his knees, his shoulders, his cock. Nothing so serious that it took him out of his bliss. 

Geralt came to join him on the bed and Rhys wriggled out of the blanket so he could hold onto him. Reaching out, he trailed a hand over Eskel's arm when Eskel cleaned him up with a soft cloth and warm water.

"Thank you. I loved all of this." Rhys turned his head to kiss Geralt, his fingers slipping off of Eskel's arm when he moved away. For a short while, he rested in Geralt's arms with his eyes closed, warm and safe under a blanket. The quiet sounds of Eskel moving around the room and the soft noise of Novigrad's street life outside together with Geralt breathing slowly next to him lulled Rhys to sleep eventually.

***

Two chapter update! _gestures at Next button_


	7. The Trembling Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It was just… seeing Geralt like that, in a way he’d always fantasized about Geralt being with him, was difficult to a degree. Amazingly arousing and nothing he regretted. But he did regret that it wasn’t **him**._  
> After all these decades Eskel finally gets the one thing he desires the most from Geralt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning:  
> All the fluff  
> Emotional sex

Rhys woke up a while later, a little disoriented until he remembered where he was, Geralt's smell of juniper and clean skin strong around him. He had dug himself in under the blanket and now surfaced, blinking in the golden afternoon light streaming in through the windows.

They were alone, Geralt still asleep next to him but stirring. With a sigh, Rhys pushed his nose against Geralt's neck. 

"Where's Eskel?" He didn'r raise his voice above a mumble. Geralt would hear him.

***

Eskel had lain with them for a bit. Curled around Rhys with his arm reaching over to Geralt. Thankfully neither had commented on what Geralt had seen. It wasn’t that he felt guilty exactly. He didn’t really. Both had assured him before it was alright, to Rhys arousing even, if he was turned on by them playing like this.

It was just… seeing Geralt like that, in a way he’d always fantasized about Geralt being with him, was difficult to a degree. Amazingly arousing and nothing he regretted. But he did regret that it wasn’t _him_ getting fucked by Geralt. And that was something he could never ask for. They had done it once at Geralt’s request while playing, with Eskel tying him up and using his cock. It left the bitter taste of overstepping his bounds in Eskel’s mouth.

In need of some peace and for once not finding it laying with Geralt and Rhys, Eskel had quietly snuck out of the bed tucking the covers all around them when they were sound asleep. The tub in the adjoining room was already filled with water and he heated it with a swish of his fingers and Igni. It was good, settling into the hot water and letting his mind empty of all its wandering thoughts.

Washing himself clean, Eskel’s hands lingered over his cock. He couldn’t believe he had come so easily. So suddenly. Set off by Geralt’s words and a deep desire to have them be true. Even thinking about it now created an ache behind his balls and he let himself explore it. Fingers wandering there and pressing into the skin, holding back a moan at the way it made his gut tighten.

***

Geralt was pulled out of his sleep by Rhys’s voice, muffled but with a note of concern. Rolling up from where he had ended up asleep on his stomach he put a leg over Rhys and held him close. “I’m not sure?” 

With his head on the pillow Geralt calmed and honed his senses, listening to all the sounds around him in stark relief. Rhys’ heartbeat and breathing were loud right in front of him, the muted sounds of the street and cabaret downstairs filtered in, and then off in the far end of the room where he couldn’t see, past the bookcases came a dull slow heartbeat he would always know. It was accompanied by the soft sounds of water lapping on wood and Geralt relaxed.

“Oh. I can still hear him. He’s in the other room, taking a bath, I think.” Though he was comforted knowing Eskel was still in the room with them it bothered Geralt that he had gotten up before they’d woken. It wasn’t like Eskel to stray even a little ways after playing. Eskel _enjoyed_ taking care of his partners afterwards almost as much as he enjoyed playing itself.

“I think I might have touched a nerve, when I told him it could have been him I was fucking. It was right for the role I was playing and it obviously worked for him because I have never seen him come so suddenly like that. But…” Geralt was purposely keeping his voice down, well aware of how good Eskel’s hearing was and not wanting to pressure him anymore, “…that’s something he really wants? And not from some role I am playing.”

“I’d love to give that to him, I just need, I don’t know. Help? Like Duncan gave me with you. Someone to give me confidence. When we play I get confidence from the role I am in. When it’s just regular sex, I need someone to help me have that same confidence. Especially with Eskel. Does that make sense?” Geralt hoped Rhys understood what he meant. The idea of being able to finally give Eskel this one thing he’d always wanted was so close he could almost grasp it.

***

"Mhm, that makes sense. I'll be glad to give you what you need. Do you want to go talk to him about it?" Winding his fingers into Geralt's hair, Rhys stretched, calmed by the knowledge that Eskel wasn't far. Rhys had been too exhausted after the scene to give this much thought, but it hadn't escaped him how turned on Eskel had been. 

It seemed to become a habit of theirs, having these brutal scenes and then winding down with sex that was slow and gentle and sensual. It worked well for Rhys and he was more than up for it right now, if Eskel wanted.

***

The broad line of Eskel's shoulders topped by his shaggy mahogany hair sat above the edge of the wooden tub when Geralt approached it. Eskel shifted his arm out of the water laying it on top of the wooden edge quickly as well and Geralt got the impression he'd interrupted him in something private.

"Hey." Kneeling naked on the smooth wood floor behind Eskel, Geralt wrapped his arms around his neck, nosing into his hair. "We missed you. _Rhys_ missed you. And I wanted to offer you something."

"'M alright. Jus' wanted to wash." Eskel shrugged his shoulders turning his head to look at Geralt who eyed him suspiciously.

"That is a bald faced lie, and I can smell it." There was a tinge of harshness to his tone but Geralt smiled softly at Eskel to soften the bite of calling him out. "You can tell me if I'm wrong but I think you are partly worried about having been so aroused, and partly wishing it was you I'd fucked."

When Eskel groaned and tipped his head back to look at the ceiling Geralt knew he'd landed dead center. "Don', please." Eskel sounded desperately at the end of his patience.

“Please don’t what? Tell you I want you to come back to bed with me. That I _want_ Rhys to be there while I take you? Because I do.” Moving Eskel’s hair out of the way Geralt kissed his neck gently. “And I know you want that too.” Resting his chin on Eskel’s shoulder Geralt waited, listened to Eskel’s heartbeat gallop along like a frightened horse. “But I won’t tell you to do it. You have to come with me just as yourself. This would just be us and Rhys. It wouldn’t be about anyone giving in or ordering anyone around.”

“I don’t think we can do that.” The sigh Eskel let out with those words was melancholic.

Geralt hummed in Eskel’s ear. “Mmm don’t you? I think you can, and I _know_ I can if you’ll trust me enough to let me.”

“Geralt. ‘S not that I don’ trust you-” Geralt stood up, startling Eskel into leaning forward at the loss of contact.

“Well then,” Geralt smiled and held out his hand, “If that’s not the problem. Come with me. Let me _do_ this, not just for you, but for me too. Please.” His smile got a little bigger and he waited what seemed like forever before Eskel finally started to get out of the tub.

***

Gradually Eskel extracted himself from the water and with Geralt’s help dried off, wrapping the towel around his waist. Hesitating and lacking his usual bravado Eskel followed Geralt back to the main section of the Ruby Room. In no way did he feel sure about this, or even confident for that matter. 

What he hadn’t been able to express earlier, what had gone unsaid was that he wanted this worse than he’d ever wanted anything from Geralt. But not badly enough to set themselves up for failure, and he was afraid that might be what he was doing. His own pleasure, even the emotional satisfaction he knew he would get from this wasn’t worth that kind of letdown for Geralt if this didn’t work.

Curled on the bed in the middle of what almost qualified as a nest of blankets was Rhys, sharp ears poking out from his now wildly undone black hair. It made Eskel smile for a brief second before the uncertainty set back in. He should have braided it for Rhys again before he fell asleep. He’d so obsessed over his own issues he’d neglected some of the things he usually did for his partners.

Rooted to the spot Eskel wasn’t sure what to do even. Instead he just stood there in nothing but his towel watching Rhys smile at him. Geralt walked back to him and stood behind him. 

“How does this even work?” Eskel barely shook his head and glanced at Geralt.

A hand low on his back pushed lightly. It was Geralt’s. “Just go get on the bed with Rhys and get comfortable. Be yourself, let me watch for a bit. It will work, I promise.” Rhys grinned widely, showing his fangs, and held up one of the blankets from his nest to invite Eskel in.

With a huge breath and no confidence at all Eskel took a step forward, then another. Let his towel fall and crawled across the bed into Rhys’s arms. Tried to forget about what might happen and focus on what Rhys was doing and how it made him feel.

***

Rhys wrapped himself around Eskel and nosed into his neck, placed a kiss under his ear. 

"Hey. I missed you." Pushing a leg between Eskel's, Rhys stayed curled up with him for a bit, petting his back and flanks. "Would you braid my hair for me? It's a mess, _someone_ had to drag me around with it." 

With a mock glare at Geralt and a smile to follow it, Rhys sat up. Eskel had only nodded silently but Rhys decided that this was good enough for now. He gave a content sigh when Eskel started to tug the braid apart for good, running his fingers through the strands to untangle the knots. While Eskel was working on the braid, Rhys closed his eyes and listened to Eskel's breathing slowing down. 

Eskel placed the finished braid over Rhys shoulder and kissed his neck, wrapping his arms around him, face pressed between Rhys' shoulder blades. Turning in his arms, Rhys pulled Eskel up into his lap until Eskel straddled him facing away from Geralt.

"Thank you." Rhys kissed Eskel deeply, giving a soft bite to his lip while running his hands up and down his spine. The touch was barely there and Eskel shook himself reflexively, taking a deep shuddering breath.

One hand curled around the back of Eskel's neck, playing with strands of hair, Rhys let his other hand wander around to Eskel's flanks and up his chest, thumbing over his nipples.

***

A few shallow breaths came with Rhys' thumb brushing over his nipple and Eskel laid his head on Rhys' shoulder. Stared at the steady bump, bump of Rhys pulse just below the surface of the skin on his neck. 

A tug at his nipple, Rhys pinching it lightly between his thumb and forefinger, made Eskel moan. Placing his lips against Rhys' neck Eskel silenced it there, licking at the salty skin.

Putting his hands on either side of Rhys' ribcage Eskel let them slide down. Pressing in just slightly to feel the dip and ridge of each rib underneath before settling then on Rhys' waist. 

Drawing back from Rhys' neck Eskel dipped in for a kiss. Quick and easy, smiling at Rhys afterwards. "Sorry I left. I didn't go far." Desperate for a little reassurance Eskel brushed his scarred cheek up against Rhys' perfect one, leaning his head into Rhys. "'M back now."

The longer he pressed his cheek to Rhys' and Rhys toyed with his nipples, gentle pinches and soft pulls that were driving him a little bit crazy, the more desperate Eskel felt. "What do you want me to do?"

***

"I know you would never go far." Rhys gave a soft pinch to Eskel's earlobe. Leaning back, he pulled Eskel with him until he was on his back with Eskel on top of him.

He carded fingers through Eskel's hair, tugging on the strands. "I want you to let me take care of you. I like doing it." 

His hands wandered down Eskel's flanks to his ass, gave a squeeze and then wandered up again. Using his nails, Rhys traced circles on Eskel's back, between his shoulder blades. He raised his hips just enough to put gentle pressure on Eskel's cock, trapped between them.

It drew a quiet moan from Eskel and Rhys slowly rolled them over until Eskel was on his side again, with Rhys' leg between his thighs. Rhys invited Eskel with a soft hug to nestle into his chest or against his neck, ran one palm down Eskel's side and between them, tracing scars and muscles and the little hairs on Eskel's stomach and chest.

With a languid roll of his hips, Rhys moved his leg back and forth, with just enough pressure to tease. Meeting Geralt's eyes, he invited him in with a smile.

***

Eskel went with Rhys wherever Rhys tugged or pulled him. Buried his face against Rhys' chest, breath heating the air trapped there with him and making it moist. 

The smooth roll of Rhys hips brushed his cock and Eskel blinked heavily in the dim space he'd created. Moaning softly, he tried to stay quiet. There would be a time and place he could let it grow louder later. And he knew he wouldn't be able to hold those back. Not once Geralt joined in.

Distracted by Rhys exploring the scars on his chest Eskel hardly registered the dip in the bed behind him. Mouth turned up and slotted with Rhys' to accept a deep kiss Eskel startled when Geralt laid down behind him.

***

Smoothing a hand down Eskel's upturned side from shoulder to past the jut of hip, Geralt pressed a gentle kiss to the back of his neck. "Keep focusing on Rhys. I'll let you know when I am ready."

That same line of Eskel's back from the tub stared Geralt in the face. Incredibly strong and attractive. Fingers walking down Eskel's spine, Geralt watched as goosebumps spread in his wake and Eskel shivered.

At the swell of Eskel's ass he paused and then kept going, delving in between Eskel's legs and finally cupping his balls. 

There was the softest whimper muffled between Rhys and Eskel. 

Rolling them carefully Geralt laid his face up against Eskel's back, in between his shoulder blades. With a wanton roll of his hips Eskel begged for more and Geralt happily gave it to him. Pulling at Eskel's balls until Eskel gave him another whimper and a gasp, Geralt smiled, biting lightly at Eskel's shoulder.

When Geralt let go of Eskel's balls he pulled his fingers back and pressed them into the tender skin behind them. Jutting his hips forward Eskel cried out and clung to Rhys, arms scrambling for a better hold.

***

Rhys moved his leg back and slid his hand down to Eskel's thigh, pulling Eskel's leg up on top of his own to allow Geralt easier access. He took the weight so Eskel could keep the position easy if he wanted to but didn't hold him. 

Burying his fingers in Eskel's hair, Rhys held him close. He propped himself up on one elbow so he could watch and so he could lean down to kiss Eskel's shoulder and neck. With Eskel's head resting on his forearm, Rhys could hide him from Geralt like that. And right now, Eskel obviously wanted to be hidden, grasping at Rhys and nestling into him.

Eskel's cock pressed hard against Rhys' and with another slow roll of his hips, Rhys moved them against each other. He gave a quiet whine when his cock dragged over a scar on Eskel's stomach and did it again.

***

Letting his fingers brush over Eskel’s pucker Geralt teased at it, drawing a circle around it with one finger before taking them away entirely. The sounds Eskel made could have gotten Geralt high. The needy keening barely contained and the frustrated whimper that followed the absence of his touch. The bashful way Eskel tried to silence them all and tuck himself away in Rhys’ arms.

Geralt had known that having Rhys join them for this would be encouraging to him. Give him the conviction he needed that this would be alright and that he _could_ have Eskel in this way and enjoy it for himself. It was enlightening to him though how much Eskel drew from Rhys, to allow himself to try this again and feel safe doing it. The vulnerability it exposed was unexpected, normally kept well hidden.

Getting his fingers slick with oil that he’d brought to the bed with him, Geralt’s hand drifted back down. It trailed a glistening path between Eskel’s cheeks. Eskel’s chest rose and fell dramatically in front of him, each heavy breath being heaved in and rushing out of him. Taking his time Geralt kissed Eskel’s back, along his shoulders, pushed Eskel’s hair up on his neck to bare the skin there and kiss it too.

Two fingers resting lightly over Eskel’s entrance, Geralt let him get used to the touch. When Eskel’s heart finally came down from the racing crescendo it had peaked at, Geralt began to move them. Small circles, and gentle strokes. Barely there pressure.

***

Fuck. It was so stunning, almost enough, but not quite, and Eskel found himself rocking ever so slightly despite his best attempts to control his urges. He pressed his cock up along Rhys’, hard and velvety soft in front of him, then tried to seek out just a little bit more pressure from Geralt’s fingers over the entrance to his most private place.

Eskel wanted it so badly. Wanted to have Geralt’s fingers open him up. He’d had it before, rarely, and he _knew_ how good it would feel. There was no way to contain the noises he was making, full of trepidation and yearning at the same time.

When the pressure increased and grew unbearable he scooted as close up to Rhys as he could possibly get. Open mouth on Rhys collarbone, and cocks flush together, Eskel cried out loudly at the receptive give of his body as it took Geralt’s finger in. Pulse crashing loudly in his ears, and breath coming in short huffs he didn't even recognize the strangled cries he heard as his own.

Arms curled up around Rhys back and grasping tightly at the tops of his shoulders, Eskel’s world narrowed down the finger moving deliciously in and out of his ass. 

“Please.” Licking his lips and swallowing to wet his throat, Eskel tried again. “Please, Geralt. Can I have-” the rest of the words wouldn’t come for him though. He didn’t want to push Geralt into anything he wasn’t ready for.

Rhys’ hand in his hair soothed him. A kiss at the corner of his jaw reassured him. Twisting and tugging at the strands, pulling on his scalp just right. Another finger joined the first and Eskel’s breath caught in his throat. This was it, as far as they ever went alone. It was good and Geralt scissored his fingers, stretching Eskel’s rim.

Bliss warmed Eskel from the inside and he waited for his breath to catch up with his body. Rhys was close in front of him, touching him so carefully it made his eyes ache.

***

Rhys let go of Eskel's leg - with one foot hooked behind Rhys' legs, Eskel obviously intended to stay like this under his own power. It freed Rhys' hand to trail up the back of Eskel's thigh and over his ass, fingertips brushing along Geralt's hand. For a moment, he stayed there and let his hand rest on Geralt's while Geralt gently thrust his fingers into Eskel.

Continuing on his way, Rhys explored Eskel's flanks and back, the skin there shining and wet with sweat. Reaching over Eskel, Rhys touched Geralt, cupping his face for a moment and drawing a thumb over his lips. 

Geralt was watching him, black pupils swallowing up the gold until only a corona was left. Was watching Eskel, hiding against Rhys and holding on to him like he was drowning. Rhys leaned forward to steal a kiss, tongue dipping into Geralt's mouth.

He moaned and pressed his face into Geralt's neck when Eskel rocked forward, squeezing Rhys' cock, rubbing the head of it between their bodies and against Eskel's cock. 

Arm draped across Eskel and fingers running up and down his spine, Rhys lay down again to rest his other arm. Eskel reached up to fist a hand into Rhys' hair, pulling apart the braid again, gripping it hard when Geralt's fingers slid deep into him. His loud unabashed whine told Rhys that Geralt had stopped and he looked up to see Geralt biting his lip and moving into position behind Eskel. 

Rhys pulled Eskel even closer, hugged him tight. Eskel's pulse jumped against Rhys' arm where Eskel's neck pressed against it, galloping along like a horse in full flight. His fingers dug into Rhys' skin, hard enough that there would be bruises, but Rhys didn't care one bit. He watched, almost forgetting to breathe.

***

The sight before him was beautiful, Eskel laid out like a feast, served up by Rhys. All Geralt needed to do was sink into him. Claim him and take him for his own. He’d already used more than enough oil with his fingers but Geralt was still liberal with it when he stroked his cock. 

Listening fascinated to Eskel’s sounds quiet down where he had buried himself in Rhys’ hold, Geralt took his time running his hand up and down his cock. Settling in behind Eskel, head propped up on one hand. The other one gripped Eskel’s ass, squeezing it and spreading it open wider so he could line himself up. 

Eskel’s body jerked in front of him, the sound of his throat working loud to Geralt’s ears when the head of his cock nudged Eskel’s hole. 

“Please-” There was nothing shy in Eskel’s voice now, it cracked with enthusiasm. 

Reaching across Eskel, threading his arm along Eskel’s and letting his ass fall snug around the head of his cock Geralt moaned. He ran his hand up and splayed his fingers over Eskel’s where they dug hard into Rhys’ arm. Pulling hard on Rhys and mouthing at Eskel’s shoulder Geralt drove his hips forward.

Trapping Eskel between himself and Rhys, Geralt squeezed his eyes closed, and let the heat of Eskel’s body roll over him as he sank inside. “Ple-ease!” The rushing noise in his ears broken only by the choked sound of ecstasy from Eskel. 

Rocking up into Eskel and pulling almost all the way out, Geralt rolled his hips up again. Made a space for himself inside Eskel, receding and then with a roll of his hips plunging in again further every time until he had no more to give Eskel.

***

It was a fight to get every breath into his lungs and every lazy roll of Geralt’s hips behind him drove it right back out. 

“Please…Melitele. If you stop…” _I might die._ Eskel squirmed as much as he was able to sandwiched between Geralt behind him driving his cock up into his ass and Rhys in front of him. It was maddening and he wanted more.

The friction of Rhys hot cock, velvety hard forced along his own shaft with every little movement was sweet torture. Not enough to push him over the edge but enough to ensure he was in a constant state of arousal no matter how worried his mind got. And Geralt, slipping in and almost out of his ass, before pushing in ever further. Each thrust had Eskel gasping and begging.

When he felt Geralt’s groin press flush into the cheeks of his ass, Eskel let himself take stock for a moment. He’d never felt so full in his life. Geralt was longer than Rhys and his cock touched Eskel in places Rhys had never been. Rim aching, throbbing around the firm flesh buried in him, Eskel blinked his eyes, lashes fluttering wetly against Rhys’ skin.

Groaning, Eskel choked his breath down, tried to slow his heart and breathing. But Geralt’s cock slipped back and thrust in with a speed and determination that hadn’t been there before. Striking Eskel just right it made splotches of color bloom in his vision. There wasn’t even a pause before Geralt was slipping out again leaving him aching to be filled back up. 

Just when Eskel was sure Geralt would slip out, instead he thrust up, pushing himself in to the hilt and forcing a wrecked moan from Eskel’s open lips. Cock sliding up along Rhys’, Eskel’s jerked at the contact and Rhys keened in front of him. Geralt’s hand wandered to his hip taking hold of it to help guide his rhythm as he started to fuck Eskel in earnest. 

Seeking out Rhys’ hand Eskel felt around for it. Finding it he took hold of it and brought it up to his chest. Shook the hair out of his wet eyes and looked up at Rhys, face partially exposed. “Touch me? Please?” Leaving Rhys hand there Eskel reached back, slipping his fingers into Geralt’s smooth white hair to hold his open mouth at Eskel’s shoulder.

“Gods. Please, fuck me.” His voice was whisper quiet and hoarse as if he’d been screaming.

Geralt laughed softly against his skin. “I _am_ fucking you.”

“Faster.” Eskel was breathless, but he wanted. Wanted. So much.

Geralt huffed and smiled into his shoulder. “I go faster, it’ll be too much. I don’t want to come yet.”

“I want-” Eskel turned his face away from Rhys, looked over his shoulder at Geralt and licked his lips, “-please. I want this.” Geralt looked at him like he could see too far into his soul and it made Eskel shudder, but then Geralt covered his mouth in a kiss. Rolling his hips a bit faster Geralt dipped his tongue into Eskel’s mouth and Eskel inhaled Geralt’s smell deep into his nose.

***

Rhys almost didn't dare move. He was too fascinated by this. It would have been stunningly intimate even without knowing what he did about Geralt and Eskel. But seeing them like this, doing something they had been wanting and waiting for for _decades_ was breathtaking.

He tipped his body forward into Eskel's so he had nowhere to go and every one of Geralt's thrusts pushed him into Rhys. Watching Geralt's and his own hands wander over Eskel's body, Rhys was taken by the contrast between their pale skin and Eskel's tan, shining with sweat. The scent of lust and musk was overpowering and Rhys breathed deep to get more of it.

With his hands to Eskel's chest, Rhys traced Eskel's muscles. They shuddered under his touch as Eskel lost control over himself, afloat in a sea of pleasure. Rhys softly pinched at Eskel's nipples, pressing down harder in time with Geralt's thrusts.

Rolling his hips, Rhys ground himself against Eskel. He kept the same rhythm as Geralt, moaned softly when his cock slid over Eskel's, precum exchanging friction for easier movement together. Rhys was so close, teetering on the edge, but he held on desperately, trying to draw it out. If he touched himself or took Eskel and himself in hand like he was aching to, he would come and he didn't want to. Not now.

***

The kiss Geralt gave him left his lungs aching for air. Eskel couldn’t possibly draw in enough through his nose. The scent of blade oil and foreign spices, the bitter tang of arousal and saltwater was so strong in his nose but Eskel was reluctant to let go of Geralt’s hair and have him withdraw. It was narcotic, drugging him, and he felt warm and fuzzy all over, open to all of it.

Geralt’s cock plunged deep into him, retreated and claimed him again. Each roll of Geralt’s hips behind him set him deep inside Eskel, and he cried out breathlessly as Rhys played with his nipple in just the way he’d wanted. 

Turning his head back to Rhys, Eskel captured his mouth in a passionate kiss. He moaned into Rhys’s mouth openly with every movement of Geralt inside him mirrored by Rhys’ hand on his chest. It was almost too much. Almost too good, and Eskel was standing on a cliff waiting to just fall into the ocean— to be washed away in the pleasure waiting below.

Reaching in between their bodies Eskel took himself and Rhys in a loose fist. Groaned into Rhys’ mouth at the touch and the way it pressed Rhys cock to his. His hold was lazy and uncoordinated but Geralt’s persistent rhythm forced their cocks through his hand with every thrust. It lit the nerves along Eskel’s spine up one by one until he couldn’t stay balanced anymore and fell over into that ocean.

Hand gripping himself against Rhys’ cock, Eskel came warm and wet. Cum splattering on Rhys’ belly, then dribbling on his cock. Drowning in the ocean, mouth open against Rhys’s mid-kiss in a silent cry of ecstasy, Eskel’s cock twitched at the heat of Rhy’s cum joining his between them. His hand was wet with their combined pleasure, making everything incredibly slick.

Geralt thrust harder and faster into his ass. The ache was exquisite now, Eskel’s stretched rim pulsed with every wave of pleasure and clenched down around his lover. 

“Fuck.” Geralt swore softly on his shoulder and bit into it gently, teeth worrying the skin. The sensation only drove Eskel to tighten around Geralt, trying to keep him inside and Geralt’s hips jerked and stuttered.

Geralt’s cum was hot inside him and it burned in his mind, a physical thing. Geralt had fucked him. Geralt loved him. Eskel felt the tears on his cheeks silently running and he filled his lungs with air in huge gulps. Uncaring of the mess on his hand he reached back and held Geralt close by the hip. The other arm was still curled somewhere under Rhys and Eskel tightened, it afraid Rhys would go.

Nestling his head between the two he breathed out. In, then out. “Please. Don’t leave me.”

Geralt’s forehead was pressed into Eskel’s shoulder and he kissed it. “Mmm, not going anywhere.” Cock softening, Geralt pulled out and Eskel whined softly at the loss. Geralt laid his head up against the back of Eskel’s neck, brushing the sweat slick hair there out of the way to kiss it. Reaching across to touch Rhys arm, he hummed into Eskel’s hot skin. “Thank you. Both of you. For letting me give this to you.”

Eskel could muster nothing more than a muffled sniffle as he tried to control the emotions flooding back into him and moved to bury his face back in the crook of Rhys neck and arm. He didn’t want Geralt to think his tears were anything to worry about and he couldn’t control them. Rhys would hold him. Let him settle himself. Eskel was just overwhelmed by all of it. He’d _wanted_ this for so long and now he’d had it.

***

Wrapping himself around Eskel, Rhys held him as close as he could. He reached for Geralt's hand and squeezed it hard. Even if he hadn't been completely out of breath, Rhys wouldn't have known what to say so he chose instead to provide all the hugs and caresses Geralt and Eskel would need and want.

His fingers interlaced with Geralt's, Rhys slowly petted Eskel who was shaking and gasping for air. It took a while for him to calm down and to surface from Rhys' embrace, long enough that Rhys' pulse and breathing had returned to their regular pace. 

"Hey." Rhys wiped away some of the tears and tipped Eskel's head up into a kiss. "How do you feel?"

Suddenly, he was shy about being with them, in this moment. Maybe he should leave them alone once he was sure they were alright, give them space. But neither of them had yet let go of him, so Rhys stayed put, one hand curled in Eskel's hair, the other in Geralt's hand.

***

Seeking out Rhys' mouth Eskel took another kiss from him. He didn't have anything to say. There _was_ nothing to say. After so long there was no way to describe how he felt.

Behind him Geralt nuzzled into his neck, breath tickling warm and comforting. "I feel like a king's ransom in gold." 

"Mmhmm." Eskel could agree with that. "An' messy. But 'm not gettin' up to do anythin' 'bout it right now." Looking at Rhys, Eskel could see some hesitation there. "Don't go. I still," closing his eyes and pressing right up to Rhys' ear Eskel whispered, "I still need you here."

***

Reassured, Rhys sank down again. Grabbed a blanket from behind and pulled it half over them because he was getting a little cold, now that the sweat cooled off on his skin. But he did agree with Eskel, the mess between them wasn't yet a reason to leave the bed and give up the comfort of their embrace.

He leaned over to kiss Geralt, messing up the very last of his ponytail by gripping into it. Then he lay down again with Eskel, one arm draped over him so he could keep petting Geralt.

"I won't leave. I'm not ready to give up this moment just yet." Rhys closed his eyes and dipped into the warm gold and green of their auras, interwoven and connected in so many places. The deep hum of the witchers' medallions carried him like a wave through it and he let himself drift, breathing in time with Eskel. His hand on Geralt's flank moved ever slower until he had fallen asleep without even noticing.


	8. A Moth to the Flame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Oh, I _want_ this." Rhys couldn't keep the huge grin off his face at the idea and didn't even try. The memory of taking Eskel apart with Geralt's help was still very fresh in his mind and he wanted it again. Doing it while he was allowed to have control over Eskel was incredibly tempting.
> 
> Eskel had been so quiet during the ride, Rhys had guessed something was up. He had already decided that he would ask if it hadn't come up when they reached the lighthouse - sometimes Eskel needed a little push. But he hadn't guessed it was _this_.
> 
> **Eskel asked Rhys if he will help Eskel try to let go.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: discussions of childhood mistreatment, low self esteem, inadequacy

It niggled at the back of Eskel’s mind for a long time. _You looked gorgeous, giving yourself to us._ The affection that had suffused his mind and heated his whole body hearing those words was searing. It had barely seemed to register amongst all the other emotions raging in his mind at the time, but it had _lasted_.

Days later, when the high of the rest of the scene had worn off and Duncan had joined them for dinner at the Rosemary & Thyme, Eskel still felt incredibly loved. Rhys’ words were whispering at his unconscious even as he left for London with Duncan. And yet when Eskel stopped to think about it, it made no sense to him.

He knew Gods Damn well he wasn’t gorgeous. Rhys might well have a fascination with his scars, and with the fact that he was one of the few people allowed to touch them whenever he wanted. But that had more to do with Eskel allowing him unfettered access to something so soul-baring and personal—potentially emotionally painful—than anything to do with looks.

Not much taller than average, stocky, in great shape but covered in a litany of scars, not even counting the ones disfiguring his face, Eskel was perfectly aware of what he looked like. And the word gorgeous didn’t describe him under any circumstance or lighting. Which meant that after much consideration he had to entertain the idea that there was something else Rhys meant when he said that. 

One thing Eskel _knew_ for certain about Rhys was that it drove him crazy to see Eskel fall apart. It was something Eskel used to good effect in bed sometimes. Asking Rhys to give him control and then very carefully taking himself apart on top of Rhys. And it drove Rhys wild. 

Eskel certainly felt like he’d fallen apart in front of Rhys and Geralt in that moment. Somehow Rhys’ actions and words had convinced him to let himself go more than he ever had before. It was both terrifying and comforting at the same time. But instead of being in control of taking himself apart like normal, he felt like Rhys and Geralt had been the ones taking him apart, and he really didn’t know how he felt about that. About giving up that amount of control.

His mind kept coming back to the loving glow that had clung to him like an extra layer in the dead of winter for weeks after. It scared him a little bit. Maybe a lot. Because he wanted to feel it again, but he didn’t think he could just ask for it and let himself take it like that. If he hadn’t done anything to earn it he needed to be pushed into taking that kind of affection. Just like Rhys had pushed him that day.

Knowing that did nothing to calm his nerves when he finally decided to say something to Rhys about it though. He left himself and Rhys every out he could think of, but somehow knowing how much Rhys liked to see him fall apart Eskel already knew there was no way Rhys would take any out he offered.

Riding up to Tŵr Mawr Eskel waited until they were only about an hour away from Niwbwrch before he brought it up, afraid of having to sit through the _entire_ ride in silence with his fear slowly creeping up on him. “I’ve got somethin’ I wanna ask you. ‘S alright if you say no. I know our weekends are usually about you bein’ mine while we’re here. An’ I love that. I enjoy givin' you what you like an’ I don’ wanna take that away.” 

Eskel had to pause and take a deep breath before continuing. Had to force himself not to look away from Rhys’ suddenly interested eyes. “I was thinkin’. I jus’… that time you an’ Geralt kind of held me down an’ teased me ‘til you overwhelmed me? It was sort of terrifying but also felt really good? For a long time afterward. An’ I wonder if it would feel that way if I let you boss me around. But only if you wanna. You don’ have to if you’d rather not change things.”

***

"Oh, I _want_ this." Rhys couldn't keep the huge grin off his face at the idea and didn't even try. The memory of taking Eskel apart with Geralt's help was still very fresh in his mind and he wanted it again. Doing it while he was allowed to have control over Eskel was incredibly tempting.

Eskel had been so quiet during the ride, Rhys had guessed something was up. He had already decided that he would ask if it hadn't come up when they reached the lighthouse - sometimes Eskel needed a little push. But he hadn't guessed it was _this_.

"Do you want to tell me what you want to happen, and what not? I'm guessing pain and humiliation is not on the list, and I'm fine with that." The grid out here was not good enough for the autopilot or Rhys would have stolen a long kiss right now. He made do with placing his hand on Eskel's thigh, tracing circles on it with his fingertip.

***

Already Eskel was nervous about having jumped into this with Rhys. It was like a mineshaft and he couldn’t tell where the bottom was. Rhys looked like he wanted to eat him alive and as much as Eskel kind of wanted that attention turned on him it was still _terrifying_.

“Um.” Eskel hadn’t expected to be telling Rhys what he wanted. At least not in the car. Not yet. Maybe not at all. He didn’t really know what he expected, but not this unbridled enthusiasm. “I don’ really know.” Eskel shrugged and pulled one knee up to his chest wrapping his arm around it. Admitting it out loud made him question why he’d asked about it in the first place. 

Rhys’ grin didn’t fade at all. Hand still tracing circles on the leg Eskel hadn’t pulled up. It was reassuring, Rhys had a way of doing that to Eskel, and he loved it. “I mean I know you enjoy hurting and humiliating people but no I don’ wan’ that. Life’s full of enough of that already. Tha’s too real for me. But I like it when you- when you push me?”

“‘M not blind, I know what you do when we’re not playing an’ you do push me a lot. An’ I let you, ‘cause I enjoy it. I’d tell you to stop if I didn’t.” This was part of why Eskel had brought this up. He was acutely aware of Rhys gently prodding and asserting control when he let Rhys have him. And it did feel _good_ , in the same way it felt good to just let Rhys handle setting up the lighthouse and driving there. Choosing what to teach Eskel to make for breakfast. Sometimes it was nice to not be in control of everything.

“I dunno. I guess I jus’ wanna let you be in control. I mean that terrifies me. Truly. But maybe it will feel good? I've never given that kind of control up to anyone before.” Eskel looked out the window and watched the scenery roll by, not sure what else to say.

***

"We should talk about this and figure some things out before we go ahead with it. I've got some ideas but I want to run them by you first." Rhys gave Eskel's leg a reassuring squeeze. 

"Let's wait until we're at the lighthouse. I want to give this and you my attention, and there we can talk uninterrupted. How does that sound to you?" With his imagination running wild, Rhys had to remind himself not to overwhelm Eskel with enthusiasm and suggestions. There were a lot of things he would love to try but there was no sense in planning before they had talked. And right now, Eskel seemed already on the verge of shutting it all down again.

"Mmh. Tha's alright with me." Eskel still sounded tense and still sat with his knee hugged to his chest. But he did return his attention to Rhys.

They still had a time to go until they reached the car park and Rhys decided to give Eskel something to figure out so he didn't sit there and worried for the rest of the drive. "If you want to, you can decide on one or two toys or things you want me to use when we play. Planning scenes around that is always a bit easier to me."

It did keep Eskel occupied until they reached the car park and Rhys did a quick run for groceries. Apart from what they needed for the meals he had planned, he got a net of oranges and some good chocolate and everything he needed to make chocolate pudding from scratch. 

They left the car and trekked to the lighthouse, not talking much on the way. But the silence wasn't uncomfortable and Eskel seemed less tense, now that he could walk and do things.

After storing the groceries and their things, they settled down on the couch in the living room. The waves running up the shore and the gulls screaming at each other provided calming background noise and the open window let in the clean smell of salt from the sea. 

Rhys had made tea and handed Eskel a mug of oolong before pouring milk into his own black tea and sitting next to Eskel. Turned sideways on the couch so he could look at Eskel easier, Rhys took a sip of tea. His free arm stretched out on the backrest, he wound strands of Eskel's hair around his fingers.

"So. You said you wanted to hand me control, to have me push you. But push you where? To enjoy yourself, like Geralt and I did?" Ever since their first time together, Rhys had picked up on Eskel's hesitation to give himself pleasure or let it be given to him. It was one of the reasons why he gently pushed Eskel in that direction and Rhys thought there was a unfulfilled need there. A much bigger one than Eskel might think.

***

Blowing on his tea and cradling it in both hands Eskel propped one foot up on the edge of the couch. Leg bent up in front of him, Eskel tried to focus on Rhys' fingers in his hair.

"Maybe? 'M not sure. Tha's definitely what made me start thinkin' about it, yeah." Sipping his tea to let his thoughts settle because they were swirling everywhere in his mind at the moment, Eskel paused. 

"Sometimes you push me to take things I don' want. An' it feels fuckin' good." Eskel's huffed and shook his head. Starting to relax, it was always helpful to talk to Rhys about these things and it was something about their relationship he really treasured. That they did talk things out. "Like you know what I need an' you're gonna make me take it whether I want to or not."

"But when you teased me with Geralt-" Eskel set down his tea and laid down on his side with his head in Rhys' lap, "-that was so much more intense. An' the good feelin' lasted for days. I wanted to tell you to stop, but I didn't want it to stop? I think if you pushed me more than that you'd have to ignore me when I asked you to stop - because I would. I'd need to feel like I tried to tell you no I don't deserve this an' have you push me past that."

"I mean," Eskel swallowed hard at the thought, "I'd still choose a word an' if I said that, that would mean stop for real."

***

"Mmhm, that would be good." Rhys traced a finger over Eskel's jaw and ear back into his hair, scritched at his scalp. 

"I can push you that hard and I don't mind ignoring you when you ask me to stop. I will _enjoy_ that, in fact." He tapped a finger on his mug and leaned forward to set it down on the table. "I need my notebook."

Eskel sat to let Rhys get up and walk to the shelf where he had stored his sketchbooks. While sorting through them to find the right one and digging in his pencil case for his fountain pen, Rhys continued the conversation. There was something Eskel had said Rhys wanted an explanation for.

"When you say you need to tell me you don't deserve this, how do you want this to work?" He sat down on the couch again and opened his notebook, scribbling down a first note on the safeword. Patting his lap for Eskel to lay down again, Rhys leaned back, with the notebook lying open to the side.

"Do you want me to tell you that yes, you do? Do you want me to give you a reason why? Then I need to know why you think you don't." Rhys carefully tried to unravel this knot.

***

The notebook made Eskel smile. It was just so Rhys. "If I really mean stop I'll say blackberry." It was sweet and he'd remember it. But then Rhys questions made his smile fade. Rhys talked about it as if him deserving these things wasn't a question.

Curling back up on the couch, this time facing Rhys, Eskel buried his face in Rhys stomach for a moment. Pushing Rhys' shirt up Eskel kissed the skin there softly. "I don't deserve it. I _won't_ deserve because I won't even have done anything to earn it, but I know you, you'll push me to take it anyway. An' it'll feel good."

"Don' tense up like that on me. I was raised with a bunch of other witchers. We were all the same, none better than the other. There's nothin' sets me apart from them. I wish it did. I wish I was special, unique, good at somethin' jus' 'cause 'm Eskel an' they weren't but tha's not how life works." Wrapping his arms around Rhys waist and holding his face to Rhys' stomach Eskel could feel the pressure building.

"I don't want to be _lied_ to. I jus'-" Taking a gulp of air and holding it, Eskel let it out slowly. ""-I want someone to focus all their attention on me. Like I would if I was in control of them. Someone who believes I am worth it. I want to feel the heat of it on my bones warming me up, but it scares me. A lot. That it's going to hurt, burn like being in the sun too long. Leave me blistered and raw when they're done and gone."

"'M sorry I can't explain what I was expectin' better. I know what I like an' don'. I thought 'about what you said in the car. 'S not a toy an' it might seem silly but I'd really like it if you'd shave me? If not 's fine. You can give me a plug. That'd be alright too." It had taken Eskel the entire ride and half of Rhys' quick trip into the store to decide on asking about shaving. It wasn't a toy but it was intimate and he did it for Geralt sometimes. No one ever did it for him though.

***

For a moment, Rhys wanted to cry. He had guessed that Eskel had a longing of having people take care of him because it was so rare that anyone ever did, explicitly. Even when Geralt wanted, Rhys knew that Eskel rarely accepted it.

He hadn't guessed that this was because Eskel honestly believed he did not deserve it, unless he earned it. And hearing that Eskel had been made to believe he had to earn affection and care, that he didn't deserve it and was nothing special - it kindled anger in Rhys. Anger that pushed the tears aside and made Rhys want to punch something, or someone.

With a deep breath, he tried to settle himself. He clung to what Eskel had said last, at least that was easy. "We can include shaving in this. I like that."

Rhys' voice was shaky even to his own ears. "Fuck, I don't know what to say. You don't need to _earn_ anything from me. And I won't lie to you. If I tell you reasons why you deserve something, it will be the truth."

He bent low over Eskel who was still in his lap, curled one hand in Eskel's hair and one arm around him, pulling him even closer. "I can tell you one reason right now. You are special to me. For who you are. And it would leave such a hole in my life if you were suddenly gone."

***

Pushing up with his feet on the couch, Eskel scooted himself further into Rhys’ arms and let himself be held. For no reason other than it felt good. He didn’t share these things with just anyone, in fact he didn’t really share them ever. He was sure Geralt felt the same and he focused on giving Geralt what he needed to not hold onto this feeling. Burdening Geralt with his own weight wouldn’t help Geralt.

But Rhys, Rhys seemed not only able to lift some of his weight but willing, interested even. Rhys enjoyed it. In the little things like planning trips to the zoo for lunch, or buying Eskel clothes, and the eagerness in his eyes when Eskel had suggested this betrayed an interest in more too.

For a long time Eskel silently snuggled into Rhys and tried not to think at all. He knew Rhys was upset, angry even, because he’d never heard Rhys cuss before but in a way Eskel understood why. He knew that children were supposed to be told that someone would love them and take care of them no matter what, and that it wasn’t right to tell a child they needed to work for that. Hell, he had _seen_ Geralt do better. But life wasn’t always fair.

“Thank you.” Mumbling against Rhys’ stomach Eskel tried to process what Rhys had said. Rhys clearly meant it even though it was hard for Eskel to understand exactly what made him so important to Rhys. Outside of Geralt though Eskel couldn’t remember the last time someone had told him they would upset if he to be gone from their life. And that alone meant a great deal to him. “I don’t know what to say to that ‘cept it means a _lot_ to me to hear from you that you’d miss me. I can’t remember the last time someone ‘sides Geralt told me that, if ever.”

“It makes me feel really good to hear those things, even if I have a hard time believin’ them sometimes. That’s some of what I want, I guess? I wanna feel good. I wanna be the center of someone’s attention. _Your_ attention. I jus’ don’ wanna be hurt by it. I don’ want it to end an’ then go away an’ feel like it was jus’ for play?” Hearing the words come out of his mouth Eskel knew it sounded bad. “Don’ take that the wrong way, I know you care. I jus’ don’ wanna find out you did this only out of sympathy. Does any of this make sense?”

***

A flash of anger at Eskel's words made Rhys sit up straight. He bit back the offended reply he had on his tongue and took the time to breathe and think about what he was going to say. 

"If I did this out of sympathy, we would have a huge problem. I'm happy to give you all my attention and make sure you feel good and give you what you want. It pleases me to do that, I enjoy it. But I'm curious, what _do_ you think why I do this? Why do you like to give Geralt or me your full attention when you play, what does it do for you?"

***

"I know you don't do every day, everything, out of sympathy for me." Eskel sighed frustrated and rocked up into a sitting position. A short shuffled backwards put him solidly in Rhys' lap and he leaned his whole side against him. "This isn't comin' out right."

"'M jus' afraid is all. I know this is goin' to fuck with me— emotionally. An' 'm scared that everyone around m won't get that? Won't realize how much I might…" Fuck. There was no way to say what he meant and avoid it. " … need help." The words made Eskel almost cringe.

"I _love_ giving you and Geralt what you need. It's fulfilling bein' able to give you want. I love that you give me that kind of trust. It makes me feel unique to you." A light flickered in the back of Eskel's mind. "You're sayin' it's the same for you? You want to do this for me regardless, because it will make you feel good?"

***

Rhys smiled, hugging Eskel to himself. His anger, both the short burst at Eskel and the deeper one at the people who did this to Eskel, had settled.

"Is that so hard to believe?" He pressed his face into Eskel's neck before sitting back and pulling Eskel with him. "It will make me feel good, mostly because it will make _you_ feel good and I enjoy doing this."

"I know this will open up wounds, that it will be hard for you. I think it's worth it though. You've found a way to live with never feeling like you deserve attention and it obviously works for you. But maybe it's time to find another way. You wouldn't expect Geralt to constantly feel this way, or me. And you deserve attention and love and care just as much as we do." Rhys kissed Eskel below the ear and gently turned Eskel's head so they were looking at each other.

"Being afraid of opening up is normal. Let me help you with this." He kissed Eskel, kept him from answering for a while.

***

The taste of Rhys' tea lingered in Eskel's mouth and his pleased smile slowed down Eskel's racing jumbled thoughts just a bit. 

After a few slow breaths to regroup Eskel tucked his head into Rhys neck. "If I didn't trust you to help me with this I wouldn't have even asked in the first place. But no an' yes. 'S not hard to believe you enjoy caring for me. You do it other ways, not with sex, an' 's clear you enjoy it an' I enjoy lettin' you."

"What's hard for me to believe 's that that's enough to have earned me the reward of your attention. That jus' makin' you happy by lettin' you please me is enough to earn the right to that pleasure in the first place." Eskel inhaled the foreign spicy scent of Rhys, fingers playing with Rhys’ shirt.

"I want you to help me with it though. 'S why I asked. I wanna feel good again, like I did when you an' Geralt pushed that pleasure onto me. I know what I like, I jus' kinda avoid it?" Shuddering at the memory Eskel fell into silence.

***

"Have you given more thought to what you want to happen? Except shaving." Rhys let go of Eskel with one hand to pick up his pen for more notes. 

"I will ignore you asking me to stop unless you give your safeword. If you ask me for something, I won't deny you, although I might tell you to wait. Can I tie you down?" The pen poised over the page, Rhys waited for Eskel's answer.

***

“Yeah. I think I would like that actually. I’ve never had anyone tied me up. Well, not during sex. Aldith tied me up plenty—’s where I learned _how_ to do it right—but it wasn’t a sex thing, jus’ her teachin’ me how. I was still dressed but it always felt kinda good.” There was a little pang in Eskel’s chest. He still missed Aldith and how easily she made him feel welcome. How she was always eager to hear his stories from the Path while he heated her tea, braided her hair.

“I don’ mind bein’ told to wait at all. I can be patient. But I want you to talk to me or touch me. I don’ want a lot of silence or to be left untouched for a long time.” Rhys had mentioned leaving out pain and humiliation and Eskel was thankful for that but he did want Rhys to know he could do some things. “I like it when you nibble an’ stuff, strong sensations are fine, just no actual pain.”

“I might like a blindfold. I always feel so exposed when you please me an’ if you tie me down I won’t be able to hide in your hold like I normally do. It’s hard when I can’t do that.” Eskel wrapped his arms around his knees in Rhys’ lap just at the thought of not being able to hide his face.

“Mmm an’ I don’ wanna be punished. I don’ wanna be told I did somethin’ wrong. Even if I didn’t do what you asked. Find a different way to ask me again or somethin’? I don’ know but don’ tell me I was bad. I only wanna hear good things.” Eskel tried to think of what else but he wasn’t sure, it was so hard to put himself on this side of things when he’d never done it before.

“I respect you and trust you. I can call you Sir if you want. It feels impersonal to me. That’s why I don’ have people call me anythin’ but its up to you. You tell me what you want me to call you an’ what you want me to do. Because I really don’ know what’s expected of me. What you want me to do on this side of things. I don’ do this side of things, ever.” After thinking a moment, Eskel decided to add one more thing. “I want you to know that even though I trust you, I am still scared. Scared that this will hurt or that I’ll fuck things up somehow.”

***

Rhys had scribbled fast to keep up with words and now capped the pen to hug Eskel with both arms again.

"I'll be careful with you and you can tell me at any time to stop or go slower. And I think you don't need to call me anything. My name is fine." He was excited for this and he had plans already what to do. But not today, the talk had left him tired.

Reaching around Eskel, Rhys took a sip of his tea and placed it back on the table. "Let's not do this today. We can start off with the shaving tomorrow and go from there. And it will give us time to sleep on it and on everything we talked about."

He paused for a bit and just breathed in Eskel's scent of leather and juniper. "Tell me about Aldith."

***

"Aldith was like a best friend only better? She ran a brothel in Vizima called Eager Thighs. Well, not the first time I met her. The first time she jus' worked there. But after that she was the Madame." Drifting back Eskel went over their first meeting in his head and let out a huff of laughter.

"I'd gone there to prove that I could be like Geralt. That I could enjoy women too. 'Cept I can't 'cause 'm not bi. Anyway the Madame set me up with Aldith an' I was ready to have her leave but no. Not Aldith. She saw through me like so much thin lace. Could tell I wasn't into women. Didn't turn away from it jus' laughed an' listed off things about men I might like until she landed on one that got a reaction." Eskel reached for his tea and had to laugh a bit at the similarities of sitting on Rhys' lap and drinking tea.

"Anyway she didn't touch me, but she got me off alright. An' I left feeling pretty victorious even though it really sealed for me that women were not my thing." Sipping his tea, now reasonably cooled off, Eskel continued. "A few years later I stopped in she ran the place. Invited me up. We had tea like this. And vodka. It was our thing. She'd sit on me and maybe I'd do her hair, tell her stories about monsters."

"We were close, I visited almost every fall. She was something of a mentor in how to boss Geralt around, 's why she tied me up, taught or told me about other things." Her teacup still sat on a shelf in the dining room, high up and prized. "I knew her for a good forty years or more. An' when she died I lost my shit. I don't wanna talk about that though."

"I mean it when I say you'd have liked her. She did things like this with me." Eskel drank his tea and smiled weakly. "Not talking about me giving over control, but jus' sitting in a lap— her in mine— drinking tea, talking about my sex life with Geralt, playing with hair." Suddenly Eskel grew quiet, reminded about how much he missed Aldith's genuine caring about him.

***

"I would have liked to meet her. And I'm glad she was there for you." Rhys considered for a moment to steer the discussion away, talking about her was obviously painful to Eskel. But it seemed a bittersweet pain and there was something he very much wanted to ask.

"Did you ever consider that she was your partner? Your best friend, only better - I'd call that a relationship, from what you describe." He let one hand wander up Eskel's spine up into his hair, traced circles in the soft hairs at the nape of his neck.

***

Cradling his mug for a moment Eskel thought about what Rhys said. "'Cept Aldith was a woman, an' 'm gay. She literally helped settle that for me. There was never anything sexual between us after that first time."

After taking a long drink of his tea Eskel set his mug on the coffee table. "What's a relationship without sex? Tha's jus' friends right? Good friends. But jus' friends. Even if it felt like more." Calling Aldith a friend did almost feel like a betrayal, she did so much more for him than he would expect from just a friend.

***

"It felt like more because it was more. Don't get me wrong, friendship is never only _just_ friendship, it's immensely valuable. But there are relationships that are not sexual and the people in them are partners as well as friends." Rhys drained his own mug and put it away on the table again.

"These people may live together and do everything except sex. Or they let it be something more casual. It might just be the two of them or they are part of a poly relationship. The word for that is platonic intimacy. There are a lot of ways to be intimate with someone and it doesn't need to be sexual."

Rhys gave Eskel a squeeze and leaned back into the couch cushions again. "And I'd say even if you never thought about it that way, that was how Aldith and you were. Everything you say about her and how you say it tells me that."

***

"I always felt like Aldith was _more_. Like a best friend, but better. Her partner Marsali always gave us our space when I was there. An' Geralt never doubted that I'd end my Path in Vizima almost every fall. It jus' was." Leaning up against Rhys again Eskel waited for him to sink his hand into his hair.

"I never looked at it that way because there was no sex involved. But I can see how it fits. It feels more right to call her a partner than a friend, it gives her the respect she deserved." Rhys' hand in his hair soothed him.

"I still miss her a lot. She made me feel useful. You know she'd just hold out her kettle an' expect me to heat the water with my Igni an' I'd jus' _do_ it?" Eskel chuckled softly at the memory of how many times Aldith did that to him. A quiet demand he wordlessly followed.

***

Rhys laughed at this, quietly, with his nose buried in Eskel's hair. "And you tell me that you never handed control over. Maybe not like this, like we'll do. But the way I see it, she saw that need in you quite clearly."

He stretched a little. "What do you say, we take a walk on the beach? I need to move a bit after the long drive. And I could bring Artrí, he enjoys running on the beach and swimming. Dinner is fish, they had turbot." 

They could both use a walk and some fresh air to clear their heads. The conversation had touched on a lot of heavy topics and Rhys was tired. And if he was tired, Eskel must be exhausted.

***

Getting up, Eskel drank the last of his oolong. “Mhmm, tha’d be nice. I need a break an’ walkin’ on the beach would be nice. I’d like to see Artrí splash around.” Eskel took his mug and Rhys’ to the sink. Rinsing them Eskel turned them upside down on a towel to dry.

Rhys followed him into the kitchen, hugging Eskel from behind, dipping his head down to kiss behind Eskel’s jaw below his ear. Taking his hoodie from one of the pegs by the door Eskel slipped it over his head, passing Rhys his.

Locking up, Eskel took Rhys' hand in his and walked with Rhys in the lead down the stone steps of the path away from the lighthouse. After only a short way they veered off on a sandy trail through the low grassy dunes. 

Sitting down in the grass Eskel rolled up the bottom of his leather pants. Securing the cuffs with one of the many sets of buckles on them, he took off his boots and stuffed his socks inside. Tying his boots together by the laces Eskel hopped back up to his feet.

The air was shimmering around Rhys and Eskel watched intrigued. Suddenly Artrí appeared next to Rhys in the grass. With a shake of his head and a chuff Artrí looked side to side before raising his snout to sniff the salty air. Eskel tossed his boots over his shoulder and waited. Curious to see what the bear would do this time.

***

Artrí greeted Rhys with an actual bearhug, rising up on his hind paws for it. Rhys offered him a cookie and Artrí took it carefully from his hand before ambling over to Eskel. The gentle headbutt to the chest made Eskel stagger and he only regained his balance with a quick step backwards.

While Eskel was busy petting Artrí's ears, Rhys toed off his boots and slung them over his shoulder like Eskel had done. The sand was sun warmed and soft under his feet, their shadows long before them in the afternoon light.

Taking Eskel's hand, Rhys pointed them towards the beach, with Artrí running ahead of them like the world's biggest dog. The bear was much faster than his normal leisurely pace and hulking statue hinted at and left them behind quickly. By the time they had reached the surf, Artrí was already splashing through the waves.

The water was cold but warm enough to walk in, letting the waves run up around their ankles. With a gesture, Rhys conjured up a bright red ball and tossed it ahead of them, letting Artrí chase it down. With the ball held daintily in his teeth, Artrí came back to them and stood in their way.

"He wants us to throw the ball." Rhys gave Eskel a sidelong look to see if he would do it.

***

Holding out his hand, Eskel waited for Artrí to drop the ball in it. One does not take a ball from a bear, no matter how bad they want to play— the bear gives you the ball and you keep your fingers.

The ball dropped into his hand, slightly slobbery, and Eskel smirked. Hurling it far down the beach he threw his hand up to shield his face from the sand Artrí kicked up with his quick turn as he accelerated after it.

It was hilarious to see a killing machine of nature turn its deadly instincts on a conjured ball. Although it was surprisingly real in his hand. Eskel laughed out loud when Artrí pounced on it. Not long after there was a bear in his way again and Eskel found himself hurling the ball down the beach.

***

Rhys watched them play fetch, the surf foaming around his feet. He was glad to see Eskel relax and shake off the tension he had carried with him all day long.

Eventually, Artrí had had enough and bite down hard on the ball until it vanished into thing air. Trotting a little up the beach where the sand was still moist but not in the surf, he started to dig.

"He's looking for clams." Rhys offered his hand to Eskel again who took it after washing the bear slobber off in a wave. 

"I have to admit, I kind of want to have an early night so it's tomorrow faster. I'm excited for this." Rhys grinned at Eskel and after checking around for people, leaned in for a quick kiss to Eskel's jaw. There was a little stubble and Rhys rubbed his nose over it.

***

The grin on Rhys' face was unmistakable, and Eskel felt a little foolish for ever doubting that Rhys would enjoy doing this. "You do enjoy pushin' me." Eskel’s smirked back let Rhys know that he was more than fine with that aspect of them. Having Rhys push him here and there had never bothered Eskel, it was only the idea of handing over complete control knowing he’d be given so much pleasure that made him nervous. And still he couldn’t fathom giving it anyone but Rhys.

Standing close to Rhys and holding his hand Eskel didn’t move away, merely enjoyed the closeness. There wasn’t anyone around on the beach besides Artrí anyway. Even he was busy, having unearthed a clam, claws daintily prying it open to get at the meat inside. “I think I’d like an early night, too. ‘M happy I asked for this, even if ’m nervous as hell. ‘S prolly better I don’ spend all night overthinkin’ it.”

“An’ ‘m glad your excited. I want this to be enjoyable for you. I dunno, to give you a thrill too, as much as it makes me feel good I hope?” Cradling the back of Rhys’ neck Eskel placed his forehead against Rhys’, holding it there. Listening to the waves roll up the beach, Artrí’s satisfied huffs and grunts, the light rustle of the grass, the screaming gulls, and Rhys’ beating heart, Eskel tried to hold onto the calming effects of it all.

Taking a single step back Eskel started up the beach to where Artrí had now dug several holes. “Someone’s already dug up their own dinner here. But we still need to make something an’ eat.” Hand still intertwined with Rhys’, Eskel gave it a squeeze. “Then we can call it a night if you want.”

A part of Eskel wished that Rhys would have just gone through with this tonight. Had not given him the time to think about it, because he was sure he would. That he wouldn’t be able to stop his mind from running away with it. And yet, he knew that Rhys was right. He was exhausted. His mind in no place to play, let alone try something new and so emotionally challenging. Rhys would keep him distracted until morning, he was sure. Like right now, on the beach with Artrí, digging for clams and playing fetch.

***

Two chapter update!! _points at Next button_


	9. Your Starving Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _  
> Breathing in time with Eskel, Rhys methodically worked to remove the night's stubble. When he was done, he gently wiped away the rest of the foam and followed it all up with a deep kiss, leaning over Eskel. One hand gripped Eskel's hair, still a little damp, the other wandered over Eskel's chest._
> 
> _"All done. Wait for me in the bedroom."  
> _
> 
> Eskel takes a leap of faith and gives up his control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: a moment of sub panic

The blade glided smoothly along Eskel's throat, taking foam and stubble with it. 

Rhys had carried the chair Eskel was sitting on up into the bathroom and had sat on it, waiting for Eskel to finish showering after their quick breakfast. Greeting Eskel with a warm towel and a grin, Rhys had directed him to the chair. 

It had been a while since Rhys had shaved someone else and he had to concentrate. A part of his thoughts was busy going over what he planned to do, but mostly he was focused on the simple ritual of shaving. Early morning light streamed in through the window, only just now reaching the top floor of the tower, and the waves were quiet. Together with the complete absence of noise from streets or other humans, it was peaceful, almost meditative.

Eskel had had a visible moment of surprise at finding the clothes he had brought with him gone, but he hadn't asked. Rhys' plans for the morning did not involve letting Eskel get dressed. He himself was dressed in comfortable pants and a button up shirt with a vest, sleeves rolled up to show off the tattoos and to avoid getting foam all over them.

Breathing in time with Eskel, Rhys methodically worked to remove the night's stubble. When he was done, he gently wiped away the rest of the foam and followed it all up with a deep kiss, leaning over Eskel. One hand gripped Eskel's hair, still a little damp, the other wandered over Eskel's chest.

"All done. Wait for me in the bedroom. You can get out the rope, we are definitely going to use that. I want to have you all spread out for me, eventually. I'm going to clean up here, I won't be long." Rhys gave another kiss to Eskel's jaw and a soft bite to the side of his neck before letting him go.

***

Padding down the spiral and into the bedroom naked Eskel’s mind was in a swirl. He’d been sure Rhys wouldn’t wait long to start today but hadn’t known when he would. Seeing Rhys outside the shower waiting patiently with a chair and a grin had made his heart thud in his chest skipping a few beats.

It had been exactly like Eskel had imagined when he’d asked for it though. Slow, relaxing, and calming. By the time Rhys was not even halfway through shaving him, Eskel had fallen into a peaceful lull, eyes closed and mind following the sharp blade as it traced along his skin clearing away stubble, leaving only smooth clean skin behind. Rhys was gentle, _careful_ , and methodical.

In the bedroom though Eskel’s mind had scattered and reminded him that he was still scared of all the ways in which this might hurt. Unzipping the bag he went to take out the ropes and stared into the bag. Over the top of Rhys’ green ropes laid a new set. He had no idea when Rhys had gotten them delivered, he’d never spotted a drone but then again he’d been preoccupied. 

These were clearly meant for him though, and Eskel picked up the maroon ropes. They were soft in his hands and there were plenty of them. Already he almost looked forward to Rhys using them on him. Curious to see how it would feel to have something besides Rhys’ words to hold him still. Setting them on the end of the bed for Rhys, Eskel ran his hand through his hair nervously. It was almost dry now.

Naked and waiting for Rhys to come downstairs it occurred Eskel that Rhys had not given him any indication of _how_ to wait. He always told Geralt or Rhys how he wanted them—on the bed—and they knew what that meant. Geralt sat cross legged in a meditation pose and Rhys knelt. Eskel had no idea what he was supposed to do.

One thing he did know was that if he really wanted to show Rhys that he trusted him no matter how scared he was or nervous this made him, there was a way he could do it. Reaching over his neck he slipped off his medallion, held it hard in his fist, before walking over and setting it on top of the dresser.

Taking a place next to the bed Eskel had never felt more _naked_ in his life. Standing like he usually did, he couldn’t figure out what to do with his hands but he could hear Rhys coming down the stairs. Shaking his wrists loosely he tried to rid himself of some of the tension building up. He hadn’t bothered closing the door on his way down and so when Rhys rounded the doorframe into the room he caught Eskel looking up having just stilled himself.

***

Eskel looked a little lost, unsure of what to do with himself. With Duncan, this would have been an invitation for punishment, Duncan enjoyed being kept off balance. With Eskel, it made Rhys want to reassure him. Especially when Rhys noticed that Eskel had taken off his medallion. He had seen Eskel without it before but never with the medallion out of reach like it was now.

Walking over to him, Rhys slipped his hands around Eskel, drawing him into a hug. He trailed his fingertips up Eskel's spine and nosed into his neck. 

"Please don't hurt me-" Eskel spoke so quietly, Rhys had to strain his hearing to understand him. When he did, he held Eskel tighter, placed a kiss on the side of his jaw.

"I won't. I will be careful. You can ask me at any time to go slower or do something different. No need to stop the scene for that. But tell me your safeword, please, so I know you remember it?" Rhys' fingers had reached Eskel's neck and he ran his palms over it, with no chain in the way. 

"Blackberry." Eskel's voice still was low and husky and Rhys reached up into Eskel's hair to tip his head back for a kiss.

"Thank you. You can touch me unless I tell you otherwise. As long as you're able at least." He grinned against Eskel's lips. 

"Lie on the bed for me, please. On your back, in the middle." Rhys picked up the ropes and chose two coils, storing the rest on the nightstand. 

He took a moment to just look at Eskel, tan skin in stark contrast to the white bedsheets. The tension was obvious in every muscle of his body and he watched Rhys almost anxiously, pupils already blown wide. 

Working quickly, Rhys tied Eskel's feet to the bedframe, spreading his legs open. The dark red ropes, woven in a corset around Eskel's calves, blended just as well with his skin as Rhys had thought they would. 

Rhys drew one finger over the sole of Eskel's foot and let it trail up his leg, skirting his cock on its way to Eskel's chest. Coming to kneel on the bed, straddling Eskel, Rhys bent down for another kiss, slow and languid.

***

Breathing out heavily Eskel opened his mouth for Rhys, letting him explore his mouth, enjoying the feeling of Rhys’ mouth on his. Gods there was a time when he couldn’t even bring himself to tell Rhys he wanted this so bad and look where he was now. 

Resting his forearms along Rhys’ flanks, Eskel let his hands splay out over Rhys’ ribs in on his back. Nothing bossy, or evening guiding the kiss, only touching. Seeking the warmth of Rhys’ body under his hands even if there were layers of cloth between them.

The kiss slowed down Eskel’s breathing and with it his thinking, gently bringing him back to the calm stillness he’d felt when Rhys shaved him. This was alright. There was nothing terrifying about this. The ropes on his calves were tight, but not excessively so. More like a strong hug. If it got to be too much all he needed to do was ask Rhys to slow down, it wouldn’t even end their play.

The kisses continued down his neck, out over his collarbone. Rhys’ hands gliding softly over his skin left goosebumps in their wake. Up his chest, curling around his shoulders, followed by Rhys’ mouth leaving a trail of kisses behind them. And it felt _good_. Not overwhelming yet, but it made Eskel feel _wanted_. 

When Rhys sat up to run his hands over Eskel’s abdomen, Eskel’s hands fell to the small of his back. Fingers barely moving against Rhys there, enjoying being allowed to touch for now.

***

Under Rhys' hands, the tension drained from Eskel's muscles and Rhys himself breathed easier, grew less worried. His mind relaxed into the scene, playful now.

Holding his hand palm up, Rhys concentrated for a second. The medallion's hum picked up behind him, rattling against the wood of the dresser. The spell created a bear the size of Rhys' hand. It was made out of ice, frost tipping its body like fur. Its paws were cold against Rhys' palm and he sat it down on Eskel's chest. 

As it ambled along, minuscule flakes dropped out of its frost fur, immediately melting on Eskel's skin. Rhys moved down between Eskel's legs and let the bear roam. He watched goosebumps follow in its wake as it made its way down to Eskel's stomach. It stuck its head into Eskel's belly button but since there were no seals to be found, it continued on its way, clambered up on Eskel's cock. When Eskel flinched, it almost lost its balance but caught itself and came to Rhys who put his hand over it, dropping the spell.

Rhys leaned forward and started to lick up the bear's watery pawprints. First along Eskel's cock and then moving higher again until he was crouched over Eskel again on all fours. 

"I would like to tie your hands now. For a while, not the rest of the scene." Rhys arched a questioning eyebrow at Eskel, waiting for his agreement.

***

The tiny bear had made Eskel smile. Its curiosity reminding him of Rhys’ own, and when it poked its snout into his belly button he had to suppress a giggle. Every step it took cooled his skin further, making the fine hairs stand up and leaving a fresh chill in its wake. By the time it neared his groin all of Eskel’s upper body felt shivery.

Melitele, when the little bear Rhys had conjured up stepped on his cock though, it took everything Eskel had not to send it flying. It was a good thing Rhys had already tied his legs and was sitting between them, or he’d have dumped the frosty bruin to the side. Instead he jerked and stilled himself. Squeezing his hands into fists at his side, he waited for the intense ice-cold feeling to pass.

Eskel was unaware he’d closed his eyes and was pulling breaths in through his nose until the cold went away and was suddenly replaced by the wet heat of Rhys’ mouth. Fists opening up to grasp at the sheets underneath him, Eskel groaned loudly as Rhys’ tongue worked slowly up the length of his cock. Clearing away every drop of melted water the bear had left, leaving warmth in its wake.

Legs trying to draw up involuntarily to wrap around Rhys Eskel found they were tied down and remembered he didn’t have any control at the moment. That drove another groan out of him and he tried to settle. 

Higher and higher Rhys’ mouth worked to lap up the melted water prints left by the tiny conjured frost bear. It took Eskel a moment to register that Rhys was asking for permission. Permission to tied up his hands. It was a lot. To give up all his limbs at once, but Rhys said it wasn’t for the whole scene.

“-es.” Eskel nodded his head in agreement and swallowed trying to wet his throat. His voice was already dry and gone. “Yes, that’d be alright.”

***

Moving up until he could sit on Eskel's chest, careful not to let him feel more than a slight pressure, Rhys took Eskel's wrists. He kissed them, put another kiss to Eskel's palms, before fashioning cuffs out of another coil of the maroon rope. With Eskel's hands held by it, Rhys tied the cuffs to the bedframe. It would keep Eskel from touching but still allow him to hide his face in his arms if he wanted.

Rhys bent down to kiss Eskel's mouth, checking in with a look and a touch to his face. Eskel seemed fine, turned his head into the touch, and Rhys decided to push him further. 

He climbed off the bed and undressed, not in a hurry but not taking his time either. Lube and a plug in hand, he came to sit between Eskel's legs again and ran both hands up Eskel's thighs. Drawing circles on his skin with his fingernails, Rhys kept it up until Eskel shuddered. 

"The ropes look good on you. I enjoy seeing you like this, all mine for the taking." Rhys lifted Eskel's balls out of the way with one hand and pressed the lube covered plug to his entrance. The plug wasn't big and Rhys was sure it would only make Eskel want more. It slid in easily when Rhys pushed harder, to a drawn-out moan from Eskel.

Leaving it in place, Rhys stalked further up, crouched low like a big cat hidden in the grass. The way Eskel watched his every move, eyes wide, made Rhys want to eat him alive. He settled for a mock bite to Eskel's throat and a muffled growl that dissolved into giggles.

For a moment, he stayed stretched out on top of Eskel, enjoying Eskel's warm skin pressed against his own. Getting up on his knees, he reached down between them and took hold of Eskel's cock. Rhys only touched him softly, adding to the frustration the plug was causing. He dragged his fingertips over the head of Eskel's cock, thumb tracing the slit, before moving down to caress the shaft.

"You're going to come for me." It wasn't a question.

***

Shuddering under Rhys' touch Eskel turn his head into his arm and tried to just breathe for a moment. This wasn't what he wanted. This wasn't what he'd _asked_ Rhys for after debating and worrying for so long.

Rhys' words rolled off of him like rain on a turtle's shell. He could believe Rhys liked seeing him like this, captive prey staked out for a meal, but not that he looked good wrapped up in the ropes Rhys bought for him.

"No. Please don't. I don't wanna come yet." The words were shaky, desperate, and muffled by his own arm.

In his head all of Eskel’s fears swirled as the pressure behind his eyes built. The plug in his ass was nothing more than a tease. A mere frustration. Nowhere near as satisfying as he had hoped. Eskel wanted to be touched, to be filled properly. To be satisfied and he wasn’t going to get any of it. Rhys was going to make him come now, and it would all be over already.

What little glow he’d gained was already fading fast. Rhys’ fingers on his cock would be skillful enough to drive him over and he didn’t _want_ that.

Tears rolled hot down the sides of his face and Eskel opened his eyes, lifted his head away from his arms to look at Rhys. “Don’t make me do this please.”

***

The scene was slipping from Rhys' grasp and he knew he had to catch Eskel now. Lying down on top of him, Rhys wrapped Eskel in a embrace, one hand in Eskel's hair, pressing their foreheads together.

"Let me tell you what will happen. You are going to come for me. And after you've licked your cum from my fingers, I'm going to tease you and fuck you until you come for me again. There's no way I'm letting you leave this bed before that. Maybe not even after, breakfast in bed _is_ a thing after all." He kissed some of the tears from Eskel's face, salty on his lips.

"I want this to last. To take my time with you. Please let me." Rhys held his breath, hoping he hadn't fucked this up already.

***

Sobbing Eskel struggled for air. "'M sorry. I-" Eskel shuddered as he fought for some control over his body, over his lungs, "-I trust you." He let the weight of his head rest in Rhys' hand. "I want-" fuck this was so hard, Rhys and Geralt made it look so easy—natural—when it was anything but, "-you to push me."

Taking a deep shivering breath Eskel let it out slowly, "jus' wasn't ready for it to end yet."

***

"Me neither." Rhys held Eskel a little longer until his breathing had gone from sobs to a calmer, steadier rhythm. 

After a last squeeze and a kiss Rhys moved to sit between Eskel's legs again. He removed the plug, pulling steadily on it and putting it aside. Slicking two fingers up, he pushed them into Eskel just as steadily up to the knuckles of his hand. 

Eskel bucked up under him and Rhys gave him a moment to get used to it before he withdrew his fingers halfway. Thrust them in again in a slow, constant rhythm that was meant to drive Eskel higher, pry his lust out of the firm hold he had on it.

Under Rhys' other hand, matching the rhythm, Eskel's cock hardened again after flagging a little. Rhys combined soft touches to Eskel's prostate with harder strokes. When he had Eskel shuddering and moaning, he picked up the pace, fucking into him faster and forcefully. 

Body tense and arching up into Rhys' thrusts, Eskel clutched hard at the bed frame where his hands were tied to it. Rhys watched him, drank it all in. He was achingly hard himself and he would have loved to just fuck Eskel until they both were sated, but this was not about him. 

"Come for me, please." Rhys' voice was much softer this time, but it still wasn't a question.

***

It was easier somehow now, knowing that this wasn’t the end. Eskel’s body gave in to Rhys, let him tug the plug out, offered only the slightest resistance to Rhys’ fingers before yielding. Eskel bit his lip. The fingers were warm in his ass and satisfying in a way the plug hadn’t been.

The perfect leisurely stretch and thrust of Rhys’ fingers slowed Eskel’s breathing further from its calming state to the deep inhalations of satiation. Each one held in his lungs for several moments as Rhys’ fingers stroked his prostate, then let out in a rush when Rhys retreated from his body slightly.

Rhys’ warm hand stroked him in time, easily bringing him back to hardness. All the fear and worry Eskel had experienced at being too close to the edge before had been swept away by Rhys’ assurances. This wasn’t the end. Rhys would still be here, still push him, still force him to accept the pleasure he wanted so badly but hadn’t earned, even after this.

 _Come for me, please._ It was still as much a demand as before and Eskel knew he had no choice, even if Rhys had added a please to it. It rattled around in his head and briefly his hips rose from the bed, squirming in his bindings, almost wishing he could hold out longer. Not ready for this pleasure already. But Rhys’ fingers prodded at his prostate and stars bloomed behind Eskel’s eyes.

Thighs trembling, Eskel cock grew suddenly harder, jerking in Rhys’ hand. Eskel came with a shout, spilling cum onto his belly, spurting through Rhys’ fingers on his sensitive head. 

For a moment Eskel felt hollow, empty, and then those fingers were swirling around in his cum, teasing at the head of his cock, making him shudder. At the first taste of himself on Rhys’ fingers Eskel moaned wantonly, unable to help himself. He closed his eyes and savored the feeling of Rhys’ fingers in his mouth.

Gods, how he wished it was Rhys’ cock. Eskel let his lips close around Rhys’ fingers and sucked greedily, the taste helping him forget the hollowness of a moment before.

***

Rhys kept teasing the head of Eskel's cock in between letting him suck his own cum off of Rhys' fingers. It made Eskel twitch helplessly in his bonds and Rhys only relented when Eskel went soft and all the cum was gone.

Bending down for a kiss, Rhys nosed into Eskel's neck, breathed in his scent of clean sweat and juniper. "Thank you. You were so good for me." 

He sat up and turned to untie Eskel's legs, leaving the ropes wrapped around his calves. "We're not done. _You're_ not done."

Moving to one side, Rhys flipped Eskel over on his stomach, using his strength on him and coming to sit on him to hold him where he wanted him. Working quickly, he loosened the rope cuff, slipped it over Eskel's hands and gently but firmly pulled Eskel's arms on his back, tied them again.

Leaning forward, he bit at Eskel's neck, letting him feel tusks and fangs. "Kneel in front of the bed for me."

Rhys offered Eskel a cushion to kneel on and maneuvered him into position with little tugs. Sitting on the edge of the bed with Eskel between his spread legs, Rhys slowly stroked his cock. Let Eskel watch and watched him in turn, just to see the hungry look in Eskel's eyes. 

"Suck my cock. I'm sure you don't need your hands for this. Don't try to make me come." Rhys wound strands of Eskel's hair around his fingers, playing with them. He didn't take hold of him, merely petted him and waited.

***

On his knees on the floor looking up at Rhys was an entirely new perspective for Eskel. Arms held snugly behind his back Eskel listened hard to Rhys’ instructions, already excited to be able to please Rhys finally. Then the last of Rhys’ words sank in _Don't try to make me come_. For a moment it flipped the happiness curling in his stomach sour.

How many times had he said something similar to his partners. Withheld his own pleasure from them, knowing it was the reward they really wanted? In the end though, he would let them have it. Rhys had said he wouldn’t deny him anything he asked for, only ask him to wait for some things. Maybe this was one of those things. 

Rhys’ fingers wound patiently in his hair, not pulling him forward and giving him time to think. The smell of Rhys’ arousal was mouthwatering in his nose this close, and he _had_ just been wishing he had Rhys cock in his mouth. 

Head falling forward to rest against the crook of Rhys' hip, Eskel closed his eyes and breathed in the heavy scent of Rhys there. Salty and smoky. Sweet resin. Nosing at the skin on Rhys’ abdomen Eskel darted his tongue out, tasting the skin of Rhys’ cock.

It was enticing and Eskel was drawn back to it, licking it again, a longer stripe this time. Flat tongue spreading out at the base and lapping at the soft skin there where it was looser in between his cock and balls. Then dragging it up and up, following the pulsing veins under his tongue.

Rhys’ hands sifted through his hair, petting him and pleased hums drifted down over Eskel as he reached the head. Wet with precum already, Eskel licked it up as greedily as he had his own from Rhys’ fingers earlier. 

The velvety soft skin of Rhys’ cock in his mouth made Eskel moan. He hadn’t meant to, it but it came out anyway, unbidden. Rhys tasted of nothing but clean salty skin even as the smell of foreign spices and smoke still crept into Eskel’s nose with every breath. The weight of Rhys cock on his tongue was so good it made Eskel want to curl his toes.

The hands in Eskel’s hair were soothing and before he knew it Eskel had lost himself in the simple pleasure of it all. The sensations awash all around, the smell of Rhys, the taste, the heft of Rhys’ cock inside his mouth, the sounds of Rhys' pleased sighs, and the needy grunts Eskel barely recognized as his own. Even the smooth hairlessness of Rhys abdomen where Eskel pressed his forehead, was loud in Eskel’s mind.

In no particular hurry, Eskel sucked and licked at Rhys’ cock. Hard and hot between his lips, he let it settle in the back of his throat, gently bumping there as he swallowed. Straightening out his neck Eskel took a deep breath and leaned forward, pushing Rhys into himself and swallowing around him.

The sensation of Rhys in his throat made Eskel’s cock twitch hard. With his nose pressed to Rhys’ base Eskel stilled himself and floated in the feeling, his own cock aching again. When he drew back there were strands of saliva stretching from him to Rhys and he quickly dove forward again to lick Rhys clean, sucking him to the top to leave his cock pristine. 

There was a buzz in Eskel’s head and he wasn’t sure where it came from but he knew it wasn’t lack of air. He laid his head on Rhys’ thigh, scars rubbing against the warm skin there. “No more. This ‘s too good.” Eskel stared at Rhys’ cock in front of his eyes, flush with arousal. “I wanna be allowed to make you feel good. I haven’t earned this yet.”

***

Rhys petted Eskel's hair, hand moving down to his chin to make Eskel look up at him. "You _are_ making me feel good. And you don't need to earn anything from me. You deserve this because you are _you_ and I want to give it to you."

In truth, he needed the break just as much as Eskel. It took all he had to not just take what he wanted or to allow Eskel to make him come. When Eskel had swallowed him down for the first time, throat working around Rhys cock, it had almost been too late and Rhys had only just held on.

It was clear that Eskel enjoyed this and that it calmed him down. His begging to be allowed to make Rhys come wasn't desperate and Rhys didn't think twice about making him wait for it.

***

Hearing Rhys say that he deserved to feel this good was almost overwhelming. Eskel didn't know what to do with that information. Instead he chose to grasp onto the part where Rhys assured him that Eskel was pleasing him.

Eskel let out a slow breath and nuzzled his nose into the crook of Rhys' hip. The buzzing in his head was lighter now but not gone. Rhys hand was gentle in his hair again and it drew a soft moan from Eskel. Cock aching where it lay on his thighs, Eskel _wanted_.

Gradually Eskel nosed closer to Rhys’ cock and then it was in his mouth again. Sighing around it, he ran his tongue along the bottom. It felt good. It belonged there and it made Eskel feel _good_. He shuddered at the thought. Pictured the earnest look in Rhys’ eyes when he’d said Eskel deserved to feel this way.

Pressing forward, Eskel’s skin tingled all over. A pleasant feeling crept down from his neck to cover his whole body, all the way to his toes. The smooth skin of Rhys’ cock was warm between his lips and the thickness of it sat in his throat perfectly. Forehead resting on Rhys’ stomach, Eskel pulled back, mouth wide open and breathing hard from his own arousal. Darting his tongue out he licked at the head, tasting the salt there.

Sucking the head in his mouth, Eskel flexed his fingers behind his back. The cuffs holding him steady, reminding him not to touch. He wanted to touch himself, to feel something gently teasing his cock while he sucked Rhys. It would be too much though, he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back if he were allowed to do that. This alone felt so good that surely he would come if he were allowed that much.

Rhys’ words echoed in his head though, that he wouldn’t deny Eskel anything.

Eskel didn’t want to come now, didn’t want this glow to end, where he felt wanted, and knew he was pleasing Rhys. But his cock ached and throbbed and he did _want_ to be touched. Taking Rhys deep once more and then sucking him clean with a rumbling moan, Eskel kissed Rhys’ stomach.

Murmuring softly into the skin there Eskel’s voice was barely audible. “Can I ask for something?”

Hand curling around the base of Eskel’s skull, Rhys’ fingers scritched at the hair there, ran down his bare neck and back up. “Of course you can ask.”

Rubbing his scars up along Rhys’ abdomen Eskel took a deep breath, steadied himself and prepared to be told anything. No, wait, maybe even yes. “Would you lay with me on the bed an’ touch me? However you want, wherever you want, but tease my cock?”

***

Rhys slipped his arms under Eskel's and pulled him up. "I would. Sit on the bed for me, legs pulled up?"

He made sure Eskel didn't lose his balance on the bouncy mattress and frogtied his legs, ankles to his thighs. Scrambling behind Eskel, Rhys untied his hands and hugged him from behind, holding him close. 

With cushions stuffed behind his back, Rhys leaned against the bed frame and held Eskel against his chest. He reached between Eskel's legs, spreading his thighs wider. Eskel's cock was already thickening again, flush against his stomach. The sight made Rhys swallow. He _wanted_ Eskel, right now. But he also wanted to tease him and draw this out some more.

Nuzzling against Eskel's neck, Rhys let his fingertips wander over the inside of Eskel's thighs up to his hips and down again. One hand cupped Eskel's balls and the other grasped his shaft, the skin soft and hot. He drew one finger up the vein on the underside and rubbed his thumb over the head, spreading the precum all over it. 

Rhys gave an involuntary shudder when Eskel moaned and arched his back against him. "I love seeing you like this so much. And I love having you ask for this, to be teased and pleasured by me."

He took one of Eskel's hands and put it on Eskel's thigh. "Touch yourself for me. Anywhere but on your cock and your balls, those are mine."

***

Every breath Eskel took slowly filled his lungs and then hurried back out of him in a rush. Rhys’ hand on his balls was quietly possessive and along with the exquisite grasp of his other hand on Eskel’s shaft it made Eskel arch into the touch.

Turning his head, Eskel buried his face in Rhys’ neck. The reassuring scent of Rhys’ favorite incense still clung to it and Eskel inhaled deeply, drawing it into his nose. There was something utterly comforting about sheltering his face there, not hiding, but being shaded from the bright light of Rhys’ praises. Like being under a tree and feeling the sunlight dapple on his skin, just warm enough, but never too hot.

Rhys’ hand over his guiding it to his thigh pulled his mind back to his body, and Eskel traced his thumb over the soft hairs on the inside of his thigh. Exploring where the rope met his skin Eskel opened his mouth, hot breath ghosting over Rhys’ neck. Very leisurely Eskel brought his fingertips up over the join of his hip. Splayed them out over his belly, canting his hips out to slip his cock through Rhys’ fingers and keep it away from his own.

The action made his breath hitch and he quickly brought his hand up to pinch at his nipple. Tugging it lightly away from himself, then thumbing over the hardened nub. Rhys’ hand on his cock moved in an unpredictable way, deliberately slow and frustrating. 

As much as Eskel wished Rhys would touch him in a way that would bring him to orgasm, he also didn’t want this frustration to end. If it did it meant the warm glow heating his whole body, making his skin tingle and his head feel as if he’d had a bit too much vodka would end with it.

Eskel’s other hand laid over the inside of his hip of its own accord. Petting the delicate skin there, down towards the backside of his thigh and back up. Still his other hand teased at his nipple and he moaned into Rhys neck.

***

Rhys watched, completely fascinated by Eskel exploring his own body, immersed in the pleasure. He almost didn't dare to breathe for fear of disturbing Eskel's focus.

Trying to match the pace and intensity of Eskel's touches with his own, it wasn't unlike playing an instrument. A theremin, maybe. Rhys couldn't help but smile at the thought. Luckily, he was better at this than at playing the theremin.

Eskel started to squirm in his arms, searching for more intense sensations and a firmer touch from Rhys' hands. Reaching over to the nightstand, Rhys grabbed the lube and clicked it open.

"Give me your hand." When Eskel held it out, Rhys squeezed lube on his fingers and put the tube away again within easy reach. 

"I want you to open yourself up for me. Take your time with it, make it feel good for yourself." Rhys stopped stroking Eskel's cock to gently grab his hair, card his fingers through it. He moved his other hand to pull Eskel's balls a little higher, out of the way, and pressed his palm on top of Eskel's cock. That way, every move Eskel made would give it friction but just a little. Not nearly enough to satisfy.

***

Obeying without a thought, Eskel heart skipped a beat when the cool lube hit his fingers. He'd been so lost in his own pleasure, nothing but the sounds of his heartbeat whooshing in his ears and his panting muffled between them, that he'd missed what Rhys had done.

The realization of what Rhys wanted dawned on Eskel and the small hairs at the back of his neck prickled up, only to teased calm again by Rhys hand. Pushing his face hard into Rhys' neck Eskel tried and failed to stifle an outright whine.

Hand upturned, the back of it resting on his thigh, Eskel squeezed his eyes shut tighter. "Why? Why do you wanna watch me do this?" It was so private, so intimate. Something he'd never dared let anyone watch before, for fear of the vulnerability they'd see there.

***

"I want to watch you because you will look gorgeous doing it. Because it's arousing for me to see. And because I'm sure you will enjoy it." Rhys turned his head to nose into Eskel's hair, voice muffled by it.

"Remember that you can tell me if you'd rather do something different. Or I can do it. But I would love for us to share this, for you to allow me to see it." He held Eskel close, hand slowly petting his hair and his neck.

***

Eskel chewed on Rhys' words and each one filled him up a little bit more. Feeding a need inside him he had long ignored. "'M gorgeous?" Face still pressed hard into Rhys' neck Eskel lipped at his skin. Ran his tongue over it and sucked at what he could get in his mouth.

Curling forward the slightest bit to reach behind his balls pressed Eskel's cock into Rhys' palm. It shifted the tip against Rhys' forearm and Eskel drew a sharp breath.

Fingertips slick with cool lube touched his hole and Eskel shivered in Rhys arms. He could do this, he could share his most intimate things with Rhys. 

Rhys _wanted_ to see him like this. Panting the hot damp air trapped between them Eskel circled his entrance. Imagined he was alone, months on the Path and _craving_ touch.

The fingers of his other hand stroked the soft hair on the inside of his thigh. Rubbing the pad of his fingertip over his clenched hole, Eskel exhaled hard. 

Back and forth over the top of it Eskel rubbed at himself. It was still so sensitive from Rhys' fingerfucking earlier and every pass made it pulse.

Pressing his ring and forefinger on each side, Eskel whined softly dipping his middle finger into himself up to the first knuckle. It wasn't satisfying enough. Eskel wanted more.

As open and vulnerable as he was already, he ached to be pulled apart. Finger sliding easily out and back in he licked at Rhys' neck, a constant low whine unconsciously coming from his throat.

***

"You are. I love seeing you like this." Rhys was breathing hard, his cock pressed against Eskel's back where Eskel leaned into him. 

He was so focused on Eskel that he forgot about teasing him, just held completely still and watched Eskel slowly fucking himself, finger slipping in and out of himself. In his arms, Eskel was quivering, keening softly. The sound made Rhys' heart beat faster.

Finally, he couldn't wait any longer.

"I want you." Rhys moved from behind Eskel to between his bound legs, easing him down on his back. Spreading lube on his cock, Rhys stroked himself for a bit, not looking at Eskel. His free hand petted Eskel's thighs, tracing the crook of his groin and around his balls, over the soft skin behind them. Circling his hole and dipping in easily, Rhys pushed his finger inside. 

It made Eskel buck his hips and moan loudly. When Rhys pulled out again, Eskel gave another moan, disappointment clear in it.

Rhys set himself against Eskel's entrance and leaned forward until he slipped inside. He kept up the pressure until he was sunk into Eskel to the hilt and a shudder ran over him. The heat and tightness gripping his cock was almost too much. He needed a moment to breathe, to calm himself down. Then he looked up at Eskel, propping himself up on one hand and cupping Eskel's face with the other.

"Touch yourself for me? I want you to come, fuck you through it." He had to swallow to even get a sound out.

***

Eskel was lost in the pleasure of it all, Rhys’ compliments echoing around in the hollow places of his mind. Moths knocking loose long accumulated dust as they flitted around the warm glow of a single lantern’s flame.

Finally. Finally, Rhys sunk his cock into him, and Eskel didn’t care that Rhys had moved away from his back. Taken away the comfort of his neck. All he cared about was that Rhys was with him, hand on his jaw, leaning over him and looking at him like he was something—no, someone—precious.

The pressure inside of Eskel had built to a peak and Rhys wanted him to let it go. There was no worry in his mind, only the whooshing of his own heartbeat in his ears, mirrored by the thump of Rhys’, when Eskel teased his cock where it lay flush with his belly.

A gentle grip with just his fingertips bumping over every vein and ridge, thumb resting between the head and himself. Eskel was sure the sounds pouring out his mouth were lurid, but he was too gone to be bothered by them. Eyes closed in bliss and mouth open panting.

The first drag of Rhys’ cock out of his body sent a wave of wanting through Eskel’s body. But the tender stretch of him coming back in unwound something inside Eskel. Opened him up and lit up the nerves along his spine.

The next time Rhys drew out Eskel only looked forward to that feeling again. Of being opened up and held there for a moment. And it built. Every time. Until every hair on his body rose up a bit and his skin tingled icy hot. His cock ached under his fingers and his balls tightened up against his body.

Eskel reached up, grabbing at Rhys with his free hand, gripping his arm tight enough to bruise. Eyes opening at the shock of pleasure he stared at Rhys, mouth open in a hoarse cry as he came. White streaked up his stomach and onto his chest, muscles contracting with the intensity of it.

Falling back exhausted, Eskel couldn’t control the sounds Rhys knocked out of him as he continued. Eskel was helpless to the overload of pleasure, hand shielding his softening cock, as Rhys kept fucking him.

***

The sight of Eskel moaning and shuddering under him in the grasp of his orgasm pushed Rhys over the edge. He had held back for so long, his control over himself was too shaky and he gave himself up.

Pulling Eskel closer by the hip, leaning into him, Rhys fucked him in hard, merciless thrusts. Fucked the breath right out of Eskel, kept him gasping and writhing. 

Rhys clutched at Eskel, wrapping himself around him with arms and legs. He spilled himself with a last hoarse moan, face hidden against Eskel's chest. Fighting for breath, Rhys felt blindly for the ropes holding Eskel's legs and pulled the knots apart so Eskel could at least stretch his legs. 

Without thought for the mess between them, Rhys hugged Eskel tight, rolled over on his side with him. He buried both hands in Eskel's hair and held him, breathing in their scent of sweat and sex.

When his pulse and breathing had returned to something like their normal pace, Rhys gently untangled himself from Eskel. Running his hands over Eskel's skin, he unwrapped the rope corset, wound it into coils again. 

"I'll be right back." Rhys kissed Eskel and got up for some warm water, some juice and dried fruits from downstairs. With them both cleaned up, Rhys dragged the blanket over them and nestled into Eskel from behind, pressed his face into the back of his neck. They were both asleep within seconds.

~~~~~

The door to the stairs had been left open again and the sun was streaming in warm on the bits of Eskel’s skin not covered by the fluffy blanket. Blinking awake in the late morning light, Eskel uncurled from the fetal position he’d been sleeping in and groaned. Stretching his legs woke a dull ache he wouldn’t have expected.

A glance around revealed Rhys was nowhere to be seen and Eskel’s heart rate immediately jumped up. _He left me alone already?_ The thought raced through Eskel’s mind and he scrambled back up the bed to sit against the headboard. Elbows on his knees, Eskel buried his hands in his hair and took a deep breath trying to calm himself. The smell of warm toasted bread, and hot milk was unmistakable.

Eskel almost wanted to laugh at himself, if it weren’t for the absolute flip flop his heart was doing in his chest at the moment. Pulling the blanket up to his waist, Eskel wrapped himself in a hug and stared up at the ceiling with a smile. Rhys was making breakfast. Of course he was. Now that he was listening for it, Eskel could hear Rhys puttering around downstairs. Dishes clinking together, cupboards and drawers closing.

After a minute to bring his adrenaline back down Eskel sank lower on the bed. Partially propped up, reclining on a pile of pillows, he debated getting up to help Rhys with the food. Rhys’ hint of breakfast in bed was enough to make him think twice about it.

Soon enough Rhys’ footsteps came closer, climbing the stairs. The affectionate smile that spread on Rhys’ face when he rounded the corner into the bedroom and spotted Eskel awake in the bed, made Eskel suddenly feel a little self-conscious. Rhys had seen him in a way no one else ever had and yet he was still standing there, like he was thrilled. 

Deep down Eskel suspected Rhys was intrigued by what he’d gotten Eskel to show him. And that was something Eskel wasn’t really sure how he should feel about.

Rhys padded closer, tray table loaded with food and drinks in his hands. Kneeling on the bed with one knee he placed the bamboo table over Eskel’s lap. Everything on it smelled delicious, and wonderfully sweet. Eskel even spied two oranges before Rhys’ hand delved into his hair and tipped his face up for a kiss.

“Good morning.” Rhys smoothed Eskel’s hair back, tucked it behind his ear and kissed the hinge of his jaw. “How are you feeling?”

Eskel thought about it while Rhys sat down beside him. Took the mug of hot cocoa Rhys handed him and held it in his hands. “Mmm, different? Clingy.” Eskel laughed nervously at himself. “How I ‘magine a farmer’s daughter feels after she gets deflowered.”

Thinking of his moment of panic not even twenty minutes ago at waking up alone, Eskel added. “Honestly? Sort of terrified of bein’ left alone an’ ‘m not entirely sure how I feel about that.”

Sipping his cocoa Eskel savored the rich chocolatiness, and rested his head back against the wall. He felt like there were butterflies trapped in his stomach, but the cocoa was tasty. Something he really enjoyed and he was sure Rhys had made it for that exact reason. _That_ thought made him smile. “Thank you, for the cocoa. ‘S really tasty, an’ I ‘preciate it.”

***

"I thought you would." Rhys scooted so close that he touched Eskel while still leaving them enough room to eat.

"I'm sorry you woke up alone, but I was _starving_ and I figured you would be hungry too. But I'm not going anywhere now." Spreading strawberry jam on a piece of toast, Rhys handed it to Eskel and made another for himself.

After devouring it in two bites, Rhys took his time with the next one, golden honey spread on outrageous amounts of butter. "It's normal to be a little clingy and to be frightened. You dared to do things you have little experience with and you gave up very old habits for a bit there. That's not the most comfortable feeling."

He leaned closer and placed a kiss on Eskel's shoulder. "It gets easier. If you want to do this again, I'm very much up for it, I enjoyed this immensely. You don't have to decide right now."

***

Eskel took his time at first, taking small bites of the toast and chewing them slowly so he could think with his mouth full. That strategy quickly fell by the wayside though as his stomach growled loudly at him and demanded he obey it. Fuck. Rhys was right. He was _starving_.

In no time at all the first piece of toast was demolished and he was working on a second. Sticky and as delicious as the cocoa. He didn’t even have the energy to be worried about the amount of sugar he was imbibing, the way his legs and even his arms ached in the background assured him he had probably worked it off already.

The food allowed him put a few thoughts in some semblance of order, pausing before finding the energy to peel his orange Eskel eeled his arm behind Rhys’ waist. Sipping the last half of his cocoa to make it last he tried to put those thoughts into words. “I— I jus’ feel like I let you see this whole messy side of me? An’ I wonder how you can ever look at me the same now.” 

A sip of his cocoa and Eskel’s eyebrows crept upward. “Melitele knows I will never be able to look at this room the same now.” Sighing Eskel rubbed his face on Rhys’ shoulder. “Don’ get me wrong, I did enjoy it. A lot. Maybe too much.” And that was part of it. Just like before Eskel could see how he would crave this feeling again later. The feeling of warm love with no requirements.

“An’ I know. You’re gonna say I deserve it. But that was easier to take when you made me. Now that it’s over, it’s harder for me to handle. I don’ know how to jus’ get up an’ go back to bein’ me now. I don’ feel like the same me.” Eskel drained the last of his cocoa, sad to see it go but glad for the warmth it offered him. Setting the mug on the tray he still laid with his head on Rhys’ shoulder and arm behind him, not willing to let go.

“You say it gets easier, an’ you an’ Geralt make it look easy, but that was _hard_. I can’t think about if I’d let you do that again right now. Give me a few hours, maybe a few days.” Fuck, maybe a few weeks. “But I did _like_ a lot of it, I won’t lie about that.”

***

With their first hunger sated, Rhys put the table to one side, grabbed the oranges and a plate and returned into Eskel's embrace. 

"You have as much time as you need, you set the pace of this." Peeling the orange quickly, Rhys offered a piece to Eskel.

"I liked seeing this other side of you and taking care of you. It was exciting, seeing you open up to me like that." Rhys licked juice off his fingers and ate a slice himself before holding the next one out to Eskel again.

"And you didn't mind what you saw of me, not the first time we met and not all the times after that. So why would I." He leaned into Eskel, scooting a little lower into the pillows.

***

"I _love_ what I see of you when we play, even more so because I know you're not like that with everyone." Mouth shutting and lips twisting, eyebrows furrowed, Eskel thought about what he'd just blurted out. "I 's'pose it is exciting for you then, seein' me like that when no one else does."

The thought of that sunk in deep, anchoring itself to Eskel's bones. Taking a slice of orange from Rhys Eskel sighed thoughtfully around it as it burst in his mouth.

"I liked bein' tied, maybe not all of me at once for a long time but here an' there, or my arms or my legs. An' I loved sucking you." Eskel pushed his face against Rhys for a moment when he said it. "I liked hearing you tell me I was gorgeous."

***

"It's the truth." Rhys nosed into Eskel's hair and breathed in his scent. "You are. I mean that."

He grinned and bit into another orange slice. "I could get used to tying you up. Having you a little helpless was fun, especially when you were sucking my cock with your hands tied. It was hard not to come there, let me tell you, but I still wanted to fuck you. It's not like I have a witcher's stamina."

Swallowing down the sweet orange, Rhys gave a soft bite to Eskel's neck. He wanted to wrap himself around Eskel and keep him safe. Having seen him like this, all soft and vulnerable, had made Rhys feel protective. "What would you say to a bath?"

***

"Gods, I would love a hot bath right now. 'M not covered in dried cum so I know you cleaned me up already even though I don't remember it. But somehow I still feel a little bit sweaty." Just the mere suggestion of Rhys coming while he sucked his cock gave Eskel a shiver.

"I'd have let you. Come while I sucked you, I mean. I could have myself if I had been allowed to touch myself." Shaking off the prickling of his skin at that thought with a nervous laugh Eskel smirked. Rubbed his face against Rhys. "There are definite perks to my stamina. You could've pushed me to a third time if you had the patience an' time."

Sitting forward Eskel untangled himself from Rhys. As much as he was aching to stay wrapped up with him right now the bath had sounded too good to pass up. His muscles felt like jelly and he wanted to scrub with real soap, sink in the hot water. He started to scoot to the edge of the mattress. "Gonna share the bath with me?" 

Eskel loved to bathe with his partners and he still did not feel up to being left alone if he was honest with himself. There was a note of hope in his question that was unmistakable.

***

Putting the plate with the orange peel aside, Rhys grabbed his commlink and ordered the house system to draw a hot bath before scrambling after Eskel. He grabbed him around the waist and pulled him back, kissed the back of his neck.

"Give the tub a little, then we can climb right in. Of course we're going to share, I'm not letting you go now." They passed the time kissing and petting each other, hands curled in each others' hair.

When his commlink beeped to announce the bath was ready, Rhys rolled off the bed. The wooden floor was cool and smooth beneath his feet, the air in the room pleasantly warm. He bent down and picked Eskel up, scooping him up in his arms and holding him against his chest. 

The surprised noise that was _almost_ a squeak made Rhys grin and when Eskel gave a pleased, full out deep laugh, it sent a happy shiver over Rhys' body. 

Stopping at the dresser, Rhys pointed with his chin at the medallion still lying there, chain curled around it. "I didn't want to touch it without your permission or I'd have put it on to you again. Thank you for taking it off, I know you _never_ do that and it means a lot to me that you did."

Eskel reached out and slipped the chain over his head again, medallion settling against his breastbone. "I trust you. I wanted to show that to you."

Rhys padded up the spiral stairs up to the bathroom. Pushing the door open with his hip, he sighed happily at the warmed floor and the clouds of steam rising from the bath. "Just so you know, I'm not leaving you again for the rest of the day at least. And I intend to put your stamina to the test eventually."

***

“Oh you do, do you?” Hot water engulfing him, Eskel lowered himself into the tub. The water level rose when Rhys clambered in behind him and Eskel leaned on him, back to Rhys’ chest. A content sigh slipped out of Eskel and he wasn’t sure if it was the hot water or Rhys’ assurance that he wasn’t going to leave Eskel alone for the rest of the day.

A tiny curve formed at the corner of Eskel’s lips. “You really did enjoy doin’ that didn’t you? Still are enjoyin’ this, even?” 

“Very, very much so.” Rhys brushed Eskel’s hair out of the way, to the side, hand getting it damp. Wonderfully warm lips kissed his neck, mouth opening to let tusks and fangs nibble ever so lightly at the side of Eskel’s neck.

The whole bathroom was steamy and the heat soaked into Eskel’s bones, soothed the ache of his over-strained muscles. He supposed he could have taken a potion if he was at home, but lounging in the warm water in Rhys’ arms was better anyway. The more he thought about how much he loved seeing Rhys soft and melting under his own touch, the more it made sense that Rhys would like seeing him that way.

The more Eskel _believed_ what Rhys had said about him looking gorgeous like that. Eskel hadn’t earned what Rhys had given him, but Rhys didn’t want Eskel to earn it from him, so maybe that was alright in the end. 

“Mmm. I wouldn’t want to do it all the time. Not even as much as I boss you around, but-” Eskel cleared his throat, pushed down his nervousness at asking for something he still wasn’t completely sure he deserved, “-once in a while. Maybe I could let you be the one in charge, if it were like that was.” Maybe, just maybe, if Rhys thought he deserved it enough, Eskel would learn to believe it too.


	10. Venturing In the Unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Can I ask for something?" Rhys kept his voice low, and Eskel gave a grunt, waved for him to continue._  
>  Rhys takes a risk, and is both rewarded and punished for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the lack of content last month but due to unfortunate circumstances it was The Month Without a Laptop. We are back on schedule now though and will resume posting 1-2 chapters at the end of every month. Please enjoy this two chapter snack as usual!

Eskel was jealously guarding an orange. Hand curled around it, holding it close to his body. Geralt had taken up a place at the large table in between Rhys next to him and where Eskel sat at the head of it. They were studying the journal Rhys kept detailing their playtime. Eskel wasn’t sure if he could actually read it or not, but he did know Geralt was spending time with Duncan working on reading the language spoken in London. So maybe.

There was no way Eskel was sharing his orange though. Rhys had brought it for him and he waited until Geralt was completely engrossed in thought before sliding a hand down to pull his trophy knife out of his boot. 

The table had a pitcher of apple cider with fresh mountain strawberries floating on the top. Pricilla’s touch, ever present in making their stays at The Rosemary & Thyme as lavish as could be. Next to it were two bowls, one filled with smoked duck eggs, a pale brown, and the other the other held freshly boiled mussels from the docks. The sharp sting of vinegar clung to them. A loaf of that morning’s fresh bread sat nearby, a hunk already torn out of it and in Rhys’ hand.

They never paid for food or drink here, it was always on the house, but they did insist on paying for the Ruby Room and they always left a hefty amount of coin to cover any damages, and all discretion. Eskel peeled his orange carefully, balancing a wedge on his knife and slipping it into his mouth.

“I loved the way it felt to make you so scared you were willing to ride me.” Geralt placed a quick kiss to Rhys' neck.

The orange slice burst and popped with flavor in Eskel’s mouth and he closed his eyes for a moment savoring it. He loved Rhys for bringing it to him. When he opened them again to eat another wedge his lovers were staring at each other deep in thought.

“I want to earn something. A reward, and a big one at that. A bath.” Rhys grinned wide and stuffed the last bite of his bread in his mouth. Washing it down with a swig of cider, he leaned back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the table. “I think it would give you the chance to put me right back in that position.” Rhys’ hand fluidly swept letters over the page and he chewed his bread thoughtfully.

“Oh?” Geralt had perked right up at that, and was now leaning forward to between Rhys and Eskel. Not terribly interested in how they got to their ideas Eskel continued to slowly devour his orange in bliss. “How so?”

“Well, to get a bath I would need to do something for it. Something _big_. Captive me won’t want to offer you my body that willingly. But Eskel…” Eskel’s head snapped up and he looked right at Rhys, looking right back at him. “...well he hasn’t outright hurt me like you have. I am scared of his coldness, and I should be, but it’s not as immediate of a threat as your violence. I saw how much he wanted you last time. I might offer to please him-” 

Eskel set down his knife and opened his mouth to protest that he wouldn’t act like he was hurting Rhys, that they’d talked about this, but Rhys’ hand held up in the air gave him pause enough that he let Rhys finish.

“-and by all appearances I would be willing. I would not struggle. The struggle would be all in my head.” Rhys stretched out on the tabletop to reach a hand out to Eskel around Geralt. “Only if you are comfortable with that though.”

Taking Rhys’ hand and giving it a squeeze, Eskel didn’t let it go. He popped another orange slice into his mouth to give himself time to process before talking. When he’d swallowed it down, he squeezed Rhys hand again and then sat back with his orange, picking his knife back up.

“I won’ lie an’ say that last time didn’t really surprise me an’ turn me on. If it wasn’t so brutal I’d’ve gone over an’ joined in.” Eskel ducked his head and looked at his orange. Peeled up another wedge with his knife and held it balanced there. He could practically feel Geralt’s eyes on him. “I know you wouldn’t’ve minded, but I would’ve. I don’ wanna act like I am hurtin’ one of you without your permission. Tha’s too close to… real.” Eskel sighed and risked a peek up.

Neither Rhys nor Geralt looked anything but interested in what he was saying though. No judgment or even an attempt to entice him. They both waited patiently, letting him think the set up through in his head before talking about it out loud more. 

And it was a relief. To see right here and now that he could trust them to respect the lines he set. “But if you came to me an' seemed willing. You wouldn’t need to be falling all over ‘me’ even. ‘M attracted to you, an’ I think Geralt there doesn’ take very good care of his captive entertainment. I’d wanna give you some comfort. Show you that not all of us are assholes like him.”

“'S the sort of thing that’d work on me, an’ I’d let you have access to a hot bath for it.” Eskel slipped the second to last bite of orange into his mouth and waved his trophy knife in Geralt’s general direction, then waited to see what they would say while he chewed as slow as he could make himself.

Geralt stole a mussel and pried it open as if it were folded paper. “I think it could work. I admit my persona might be more than a little annoyed at you though, there could be unforeseen consequences there. I tried to be nice to you and offered to do your hair and you basically told me to fuck off. Then you go and sweet talk my man into a bath with your body? I hope you want to hurt.”

Swallowing down the mussel and taking another one Geralt peered at Eskel intently. “And I don’t get the impression Eskel there is going to take his desire to treat you better so far as to keep me from hurting you. He hasn’t saved you yet after all.”

Eskel gave a weak laugh around the last orange slice in his mouth. “No.” 

Reaching out Eskel took a duck egg, turned it over in his hand and sniffed it before swallowing it all in one bite. The cider washed it down nicely. “I think you should be treatin’ him better, but ‘s not ‘cause I think you’re evil. I jus’ think he’d be more willing to fuck you an’ last longer if you did.” For the first time since they had started talking a sly grin stole onto Eskel’s face. Maybe imagining yourself as someone else wasn’t so boring after all.

***

Rhys had taken the time to devour several mussels and now wiped his fingers on a piece of bread. He let his fountain pen tap on the page a few times while thinking. 

"I'm going to come back to that." Eskel's willingness to participate thrilled Rhys and it opened a lot of possibilities for them.

"What do you think about starting out down in the cellar and then you take me up here for the bath? That way, Geralt will find his captive gone when he comes to check on me and is already upset when he arrives up here. I don't doubt that you can calm him down but I'll still bear the consequences." He doodled a small hedgehog snuffling at an apple while he was thinking, adding to the collection of marginalia already on the page.

"If you want to watch, and I assume Eskel is fine with that", Rhys looked up and got a nod from Eskel, "then we can just pretend you're not there. You'll be present for the scene the second you come through the door here. Don't tell me if you plan to do anything specific, but I would very much like it if you bend me over the table here and fucked me. It's something that just does things for me."

Taking a sip of his cider, Rhys set the mug down and reached for Eskel's hand. "If you find that you like playing a part in this, I have an idea that I would like to discuss with you two. If I were in this situation, I would try to play you against each other. Not try and get Eskel to help me, I can see that won't work. But unbalancing your relationship. Preferring Eskel to Geralt, really pushing Geralt's jealousy and trying to point it _at_ Eskel." He paused, tapping on one corner of the triangle he had idly drawn on the page. 

"Geralt is the weak point I'm aiming for. But ultimately, I want to fail. I don't think we need to plan this out in detail, but what we're doing today is a good starting point for it and then we can see where it goes. If you want to." Rhys looked first at Geralt, then at Eskel, eyebrows raised.

***

Geralt harumphed. “It’s undeniably easy to push my persona’s buttons. I think you will do that if we follow this path even if you don’t intend to. I’m willing to see how much of my ire you can handle if Eskel is, and as long as we all understand that I’m not really worried about anyone getting in between me and Eskel for real.”

“I know ‘m known for bein’ jealous an’ all but I know the difference between play an’ what’s real.” Eskel raised his eyebrows at Geralt. With a candid smile for both of them Eskel spoke to Rhys. “I don’ know for sure if I will like bein’ this involved or not. But ‘m not uncomfortable with the idea of what you wanna try. Let’s play it out, see how it goes. If I don’ like it, I’ll speak up. I _do_ like watchin’ Geralt have your ass. If nothin’ else that’s a sight I wanna see again.”

Eskel grinned at the memory of Geralt lost in his confidence, and a chill went up his spine when he remembered Geralt’s rough words that it could have been him. How it had been him later. “I think startin’ out downstairs an’ comin’ up here for your bath is a good idea. Might kinda heighten it for me knowin’ you’re watching us play, Geralt. Even if ‘m supposed to pretend like you’re not there.”

“I don’ want anythin’ huge. Start me off easy, bringin’ me into this. I jus’ want your mouth on me or somethin’. Lemme get a feel for how comfortable I am, alright?” Tipping his cider and judging it lacking, Eskel reached for the pitcher to refill himself.

***

Using a discarded shell as pincers, Rhys had eaten his way through a respectable amount of mussels while they talked. They might look horrible and he knew exactly what _they_ ate, but they were delicious. And the sharp tang of vinegar went well with the tartness of the cider.

"I was planning on offering to suck your cock. I tell myself that I'll have at least some control over the situation then. Whether that will be true or not is up to you. If you want to take what you want, what's been offered to you, I have no problem with that. It would make it even better for me, to be honest. And captive me won't struggle, he knows what's expected of him." Rhys grinned, already looking forward to trying this out.

"Do you want to start later today? I want to go buy some spices but I have no plans for the afternoon and Duncan won't be back until tomorrow anyway." Duncan had taken off to Oxenfurt to visit a troll he had befriended there after Geralt had introduced them. Rhys had opted not go come with, instead approaching the witchers about continuing their play.

There was nothing but agreement from Geralt and Eskel and they finished off their meal before going out to the market.

~~~~~~

In the dark, Rhys sat and waited. Hoped that it would be Eskel, bringing him food. He wanted something and Eskel would be the one more likely to let him have it at the price Rhys was willing to pay.

The door scraped open and Rhys tensed up. He relaxed a little when he saw that it was indeed Eskel and that there was no trace of Geralt. Rhys didn't fool himself that Eskel wouldn't ever get violent with him, or had much compassion beyond the practical. If this was to work, he had to be careful. But he had also seen how Eskel looked at him. And that gave him the leverage he hoped for.

Putting the bowl of bread and cheese in front of him, Eskel stepped back and out of Rhys' reach. They had started keeping Rhys' hand shackled in front of him so he could take care of himself better. Less work for them and he still was helpless enough. 

"Eat. Might have something better for you later. If you behave." Eskel watched him impassively. His words made Rhys' heart speed up because that meant Geralt planned to entertain himself. And Rhys would only get whatever 'something better' was if Geralt was satisfied.

Rhys pushed the thought aside. There was nothing he could do about that anyway. He wolfed down the meager portion and set the bowl aside. With a deep breath, he looked up at Eskel. On his knees, hands on his thighs, and still without a shirt, he hoped he looked both docile and enticing.

"Can I ask for something?" Rhys kept his voice low, and Eskel gave a grunt, waved for him to continue.

"Do you think it's possible I could have a bath?" He waited a beat, swallowed and continued. "If you want to, I can make you feel good. I've seen you watching me, and I think you'd enjoy me. There's no need to force me into anything. I'll suck your cock, get you off. And you can decide after if it was good enough."

Rhys dropped his gaze, watched Eskel from below his eyelashes. He didn't have to pretend being shy about this. He just had to hide how much he hated the idea. But he still hated it less than anything Geralt did to him.

***

Eskel raised an eyebrow questioningly at Rhys. “Lemme get this straight. You want a bath. An’ you’re willin’ to suck me off for it an’ let me decide after the fact if it was good enough for it?” Eskel waited a moment to make sure Rhys understood what he was offering. “You know that if you bite me like you try to bite him, I’ll snap your neck like a twig an’ not think twice?”

The silence was deafening. “Geralt can find a new toy to tie to a post. I can’t grow a new cock.” Rhys nodded meekly back at him and Eskel tipped his head to the side assessing him.

Abruptly, Eskel took a few steps forward and started to open his belt. Tossed his swords on the bed, and walked up to and right through the confines of what Rhys could reach on his chain. He leaned back against the support beam and waved Rhys over. “You better’d make me believe how much you want this.”

***

Rhys didn't bother to get up, he didn't want to spook Eskel and he wanted to appear properly subdued. Kneeling in front of Eskel, he raised his hands up to unlace Eskel's leathers. The chain rattled and hung heavily from the shackles, reminding Rhys with every move what and where exactly he was. 

Hooking his fingers into the waistband of Eskel's pants and braies, Rhys pulled them down just enough that he could reach Eskel's cock. Cupping his balls in one hand, Rhys took Eskel's cock into his mouth. It was still limp enough that he could take it all easily, heavy and hot on his tongue. 

With his free hand pressed flat against Eskel's thigh, Rhys started to suck and lick, pushing his tongue into the foreskin. At the first taste of musk and salt he had to take a deep breath not to gag. But this was much easier than whatever Geralt forced him to do. He had at least some control, and it had been his choice. 

Rhys looked up and met Eskel's gaze, honey colored eyes half lidded. Eskel's expression was unreadable but his breathing was gradually losing its measured pace. His cock grew hard in Rhys' mouth, nudging at the back of his throat. 

Using one hand to slowly caress Eskel's shaft, Rhys sucked on the head, pushing the foreskin back from the sensitive tip. He licked over it, stopped sucking for a moment to stroke up and down the shaft and rub over the slit with his thumb. With another deep breath, he took Eskel into his mouth again and swallowed him down. First halfway, the tip breaching his throat, then all the way. 

He forced himself to keep the cock in his throat for two heartbeats, then came up for air. Sucked on the tip with his hand pumping the shaft, then tried taking it to the hilt once more. Nudging his throat the wrong way, Rhys triggered his gag reflex and had to try again. He blinked away a few tears, fought to relax and to breathe when he moved back. 

It wasn't that he was inexperienced, far from it. But Eskel wasn't small and even with Rhys in control, it was hard to find just the right way to swallow him. Rhys was hyper aware of his tusks and fangs, kept his mouth wide open to avoid accidents. He gave himself a short break to get his breath back, spreading his own spit along Eskel's shaft to slick it up, before pushing it down his throat again. A soft whimper escaped him.

***

There was a slowness to how Geralt’s captive touched him. Not hesitant exactly, but simply not rushed. Eskel allowed himself to appreciate it, to enjoy watching Rhys’ hands finish undoing his leathers and lower them enough to expose his cock. A little thrill rode quick and sordid up Eskel’s spine when Rhys slipped a hand in between his legs to hold his balls. 

The wet heat of Rhys mouth replaced the tight confines of Eskel’s leathers and it was so much more welcoming, Eskel wanted to close his eyes. He didn’t though, because while he was certain he could take Rhys down if he needed, he was also certain he didn’t want to be put in a situation where he had to explain that to Geralt.

Instead he watched Rhys. Enthralled by the timidity he showed compared to the fight he gave Geralt. Rhys was right, Eskel had looked at him, and not just occasionally. 

He was leanly muscled and tall, with an exotic look about him only made more so by all the intricately inked obscure plants and creatures that covered his arms and surrounded the giant Skellige bear tattooed on his back. Perfect pointed ears peeking out of once gleaming back hair, now browned by the dirt and dust of the cellar floor. 

Oh yes. Eskel had looked. And watched. And maybe even wanted, while Geralt forced Rhys to give up his body. Had smelled the arousal in the air wafting off Rhys when Geralt fucked him. But he was not so callous as Geralt to enjoy _taking_ something like this.

Eskel reached out and brushed the dirty hair out of Rhys’ face gently. Caressing Rhys’ lovely high cheekbones with the backs of his fingers and then settling the tips of them in his hair. No, it was so much more satisfying when they came to you. When they asked, or begged, when they _wanted_. Eskel wasn’t sure if it really mattered what they wanted as long as they were willing to work for it.

“Tha’s it.” Eskel was being patient. Letting Rhys take it at his own pace, and letting the sensations roll over him when Rhys swallowed him down the first time. He bit his tongue and licked at his teeth when Rhys gagged on him. It made his balls ache, the sudden tightness around the head of his cock going right to them.

Rhys slid up, engulfing his cock again, pushing it all the way back into his throat and whimpering. In response Eskel let out a soft sigh. “Mhm, you hafta do the work. ‘M not Geralt, I won’ force you. You’ve gotta swallow me down all on your own. Show me jus’ how hard you’re willin’ to work for this.” 

The back of his hand barely touching Rhys’ hair, Eskel petted it. Cock twitching in Rhys’ throat, he stared at where it sank in between Rhys’ lips. Watched the saliva stretch between Rhys’ wide open mouth and his cock when Rhys pulled back for a break. Cock pulsing with pleasure, the tip throbbing and leaking in Rhys’ mouth, Eskel forced himself to keep his hips still. Waited for Rhys to take him down again.

Sure that soon enough he wouldn’t be able to control the urge to roll his hips slowly and determined to make Rhys work for every bit of his reward, Eskel pressed the fingers of his free hand into the post behind him to steady himself. Fuck. Rhys was so very right that Eskel would enjoy him. Such a sweet demure cocksucker willing to make trades.

***

Rhys forced himself not to tense up at Eskel's touch. It was gentle, but despite Eskel's words, Rhys couldn't help but imagine the fingers gripping his hair and holding him in place once Eskel had enough of waiting.

There was clear fascination on Eskel's face as he watched Rhys. The slight quiver of his leg muscles under Rhys' hand signaled to Rhys that Eskel struggled to keep his composure. 

He let Eskel's cock slip out of his mouth, kept stroking it. Swallowing down spit and precum, Rhys cleared his throat. "May I touch you? Put my hands under your shirt?"

It would be awkward, shackled as he was, but Rhys wanted to let his hands roam, give Eskel more things freely that he refused Geralt. Eskel nodded, maybe not trusting himself to speak, and sucked in a sharp breath when Rhys let his palms wander up his stomach. Maybe at the touch, maybe at the coldness of the metal around Rhys' wrists.

Stretching himself, Rhys explored blindly under Eskel's shirt while returning to sucking his cock. Scars and smooth skin, strong muscles, a trail of soft hairs leading up his belly that Rhys followed with a fingertip. When Rhys found and circled his nipples, Eskel gave a flinch that thrust his cock deeper into Rhys' throat, causing Rhys to gag. 

Rhys struggled to swallow around Eskel and moved forward again, relaxing as best as he could. Since Eskel did nothing to stop him, Rhys thumbed over his nipples, giving a very careful pinch to one. Did it again when it drew a soft moan from Eskel and sucked harder on him, taking him down his throat at a faster rhythm.

***

Eskel wanted to slide down the pole, go down on his knees and let Rhys sit in front of him swallowing him down, because the shyness of his touches combined with the slick heat of his mouth made standing an effort. Instead he gave up the battle to keep his hips completely still. Giving in to the urge to thrust that last little bit into Rhys’ mouth each time he took him down his throat.

Still Eskel kept his hand just barely grazing Rhys’ hair, tracing over the pointed tip of his ear, down the line of his jaw. Never holding. Never doing anything to keep Rhys from escaping those short slow thrusts. If he wanted to pull back he could, but Eskel didn’t think he would. There was a talent behind his actions, the way he had carefully worked Eskel’s cock into his throat spoke of experience. 

If Rhys had been a blushing virgin when he came down here, Eskel doubted he’d have managed to take his cock this far. This well. Sure, he’d gagged, but it wasn’t like Eskel had the easiest cock to swallow so deeply, and Rhys was taking it. Not just licking and sucking the head like a lot of men would, but letting it invade his throat and make his eyes water.

Moaning when Rhys gagged again, having thrust a little too fast for him to take comfortably, Eskel tipped his head back against the post, let his eyes fall almost completely shut, until he could only see a haze of Rhys below him. Heading bobbing, arms reaching, fingers teasing his chest. “You’re good at this. Don’ make me come on your face.” Reaching up behind himself with both hands Eskel grabbed the support beam. Used his hands to help keep him upright as his legs became less and less steady. “You know what I want.”

Eskel could hear Rhys’ heart speed up at his words, whether it was from fear or arousal would have been impossible to tell for sure, the two seemed so intermixed for him. What he could tell for sure was that the air smelled of more arousal than just his own and he was willing to bet that if he pressed his leg into Rhys’ crotch he would find him hard. That thought alone stirred a sudden need in him. Arousal washing down his thighs cold and hot and tingling all at once, his balls pulling up tight.

In that moment nothing mattered to Eskel more than that Rhys had come to him, offered him this. Had freely given up his mouth in trade for something, and that he was turned on by doing it. Rhys’ fingers worked over his nipples, pinching and pulling at them just right, and Eskel could not control the way his hips rose away from the pole. Seeking out Rhys’ mouth.

***

For this part of the scene Geralt had laid out one of the bed rolls on the floor opposite the cot, with Rhys, Eskel, and the support beam in between him and it. It put him a bit in the shadows, while giving him a great view. Lying on his side, Geralt had watched with great interest how Rhys and Eskel interacted in their roles. Rhys, easily falling into his before Eskel even entered the room. Eskel taking a moment longer to find his place.

As soon as they were settled into their personas though Geralt had become _enthralled_. Rhys playing the meek little slave, even making himself look small by never standing up, and Eskel exuding the same dominating, controlling confidence he could when he bossed Geralt around, without ever really touching Rhys.

It was the way they seemed to be playing cat and mouse with each other without much talking or touching that struck Geralt as amazing. So much was going on inside their heads that he wasn’t privy to, he was sure of it. But as soon as Rhys’ mouth touched Eskel’s cock he could see how some of this was just genuinely them.

How Rhys knew what Eskel liked and wasn’t afraid to give it to him, or use it against him. And how Eskel was willing to take it, and allow Rhys to push those buttons. 

The smell of sex was in the air and the sound of their heartbeats was clear in Geralt’s ears. It was all amazingly erotic. To see Eskel hold that post behind himself, offer up his cock like that for the pleasing, and to allow himself to be pleased so thoroughly. He wasn’t taking anything, he was letting it be given to him and it was such a rare sight. As much as it was arousing and Geralt wouldn’t deny he was as hard as he’d been the first time they’d played in this little game, he was also happy. 

Geralt was truly grateful to see that Eskel had found a way to enjoy himself unburdened. Was clearly finding a way to let Rhys in, and to accept that Rhys wanted to take care of him as well as be taken care of. It wasn’t something Geralt himself was good at giving Eskel, and he knew it. Seeing it in front of him made him think that together they were all complete.

***

Under Rhys' hands, Eskel had started to twitch , his muscles quivering. When he rested one arm against Eskel's thigh for balance, Rhys could feel it shake and relief washed over him. He clearly was getting to Eskel, he hadn't been sure he would.

This was _hard_ \- Rhys' jaw ached and his throat was sore, but he couldn't stop now. Sniffling and blinking away the tears his gagging had brought up, he leaned into Eskel's thrusts. Let Eskel fuck his throat, breathing when he pulled back and swallowing him down again with the next thrust,

Since Eskel didn't hold him down, Rhys could get into a rhythm with him and didn't choke or gag too much. Still, spit and precum ran down his chin and dripped on his chest, leaving itching trails. He really hoped Eskel would allow him that bath when they were done.

Rhys did his best to ignore his own hard cock, sitting uncomfortably and neglected between his thighs. So far, Eskel was ignoring it as well and that suited Rhys just fine. He had no desire to be touched or be told to touch himself. It was bad enough that his body kept betraying him, kept finding pleasure in what he was forced to do. Rhys didn't need Eskel to humiliate him about it, he was doing that perfectly well himself.

***

With Rhys having found a rhythm, eagerly able to take his cock with every small thrust, Eskel let the pleasure build. Steadily drawing him higher every time he slid into Rhys' throat and it fluttered around him.

Toes curling inside his boots Eskel grunted. "Fucking Melitele." The icy heat pulled up from his thighs, and spilled through his groin, rolling out of him in a great wave. Eskel blinked, head lolling to the side and cock jerking hard as he watched Rhys struggling to swallow him down.

The sweetness of his orgasm making him feel generous, Eskel smiled down at Rhys. "Yeah. That's it. You were good. Clean me up with you mouth an' you can have a bath."

***

The strong musk of Eskel's cum clung to Rhys' tongue, wouldn't go away even with swallowing. It made him shudder, and he wasn't sure even in his own head if it was with disgust or arousal.

Rhys let his hands slide down Eskel's body, resting them in his lap for a second while he turned his head to the side to cough wetly. Then he did as Eskel had said and cleaned him, licking up the last traces of cum and his own spit. He focused on the fact that he was almost done, and would be getting out of the dark cellar soon. It had been— he had lost count. He had no way of marking the days, couldn't even reach the walls of the room to scratch.

Just seeing something else than the gloomy cellar would have been a reward. A bath, doing more than washing himself with a piece of cloth thrown into a bucket of water, would be a pleasure. Rhys was tempted to try and run, but he knew he wouldn't get far, even with Geralt not there. He didn't fool himself into thinking Eskel wouldn't easily catch him. Unless there was an amazingly good opportunity, he would have to play the long game.

When Eskel's cock was clean, Rhys sat back on his heels, hands on his thighs again. He looked up at Eskel, trying not to show too much how much he wanted this. "Did I please you?"

***

"Got me to let m'self go in that sweet mouth of yours. Whaddya think?" A wry smirk decorated Eskel's face. Gods he was utterly satisfied at the moment. "Could earn yourself a regular bath that way."

After taking a few moments to enjoy the feeling of satisfaction at being given something, making a deal— winning— Eskel pulled up his braies and leathers. Laced them tightly and grabbed Rhys' shackles.

It only took him a few quick practiced moves to unlock them from the heavy chain. Eskel himself had escaped from similar before. More than once. Pulling Rhys up on his feet Eskel looked up with a cold stare. "No funny shit."

With a hand around Rhys' upper arm and one wound in his hair tightly but not putting any strain on it yet, only ready to if needed, Eskel marched him to the stairs. He didn't bother letting Rhys wipe off the mess on his face, the one that had dropped down onto his chest. The smell of it permeated the air around them and Eskel was loathe to let it be washed away yet.

He wasn't worried about someone seeing them on the back stairs. And even if they did he could lie. Say he'd taken a contract for a sex crazed monster. The commoners didn't know any better, they'd start thinking he was an incubus or something.

Once upstairs Eskel remained a respectful distance. Door locked and his Yrden glowing purple on the floor around it as a deterrent. He'd heated the tub to a perfect temperature.

But he wouldn't look away. He gazed with his arms crossed and leaning against the table, one boot resting on the other. "I said you could have a bath. I didn' say I wouldn't watch." With a flick of his hand Eskel motioned for Rhys to undress.

***

Rhys made a non-committal sound and took off his pants and braies. He hadn't expected Eskel to give him privacy and he wouldn't hide, wouldn't show any shame. There still was too much pride in him for that.

The short walk upstairs hadn't been nearly long enough to make his cock go soft again, but it was flagging. Folding his clothes and placing them on a stool next to the tub, Rhys climbed into the water and sank down with a long sigh. He didn't turn away from Eskel, let him see what he wanted to see. 

The water was bliss, hot and clean, and Rhys wasted no time, started to scrub himself down. Sank into the tub up to his chin and closed his eyes for a moment, simply enjoyed being clean. He could almost imagine that everything had just been a bad dream, one that he could wash away as easily as the dirt on his skin.

***

Eskel very carefully kept his face neutral. As soon as Rhys closed his eyes, almost submerged in the water, the unscarred side twitched, curling up into a greedy smile. The stiffness lingering in Rhys’ cock hadn’t escaped his attention and Eskel was quietly interested in that particular reaction. Had Geralt’s captive been turned on by the idea of what he’d done to Eskel and simply not wanted to admit it out of shame or guilt? Or was it purely a physical reaction? Perhaps he enjoyed sucking men so much his cock was just hardwired to harden at the act.

Musing quietly on it, Eskel stepped silently away from the table and took a bar of soap from near by the wash basin. He was quite sure Rhys hadn’t heard him moving around, well aware he could be exceptionally light on his feet when he wanted. The loud gasp and jump that sent water sloshing around in the tub when Eskel dropped the soap into the water near Rhys confirmed it.

“A little soap wouldn’t hurt.” Rhys’ heartbeat thundered loudly in Eskel’s ears as he walked back and leaned against the table again to watch.

It took a moment for Rhys to catch his breath and reign his body back in, heart slowing eventually. He didn’t ask for help and Eskel didn’t offer. The soap did wash away the heady scent of Eskel’s cum mixed with Rhys’ sweat and saliva though. The barest traces of it were left in the room from Eskel’s own body.

The silence was shattered by the quick tumbling of the lock and the door being shoved open. It banged against the wall and bounced right back into Geralt’s hand where it was still held up flat. “Where the _FUCK_ is my whore?!”

Rolling forward with an easy grace Eskel turned to face Geralt. “He’s right there. Calm down.”

“Calm down?! What the Hells, Eskel? I went down to have some fun and he was gone. It reeks like you fucked him down there.” Stepping into the room and slamming the door shut Geralt swung around. After glaring at Rhys in the tub Geralt turned his attention back to Eskel. “And I don’t care if you wanna hold him down and fuck him, but at least let me _watch_.” There was a pinched note to the end of his statement. 

Geralt was breathing hard, anger bubbling right under the surface. “Why did you bring him up here? Not to fuck him. From the smell of it that already happened downstairs.” The first burst of energy had bled out and now real anger was replacing what had been driven by fear of losing his toy before it.

“He earned it.” Eskel shrugged nonchalantly and stepped up into Geralt’s space.

Taking a sharp step away Geralt eyed Eskel critically. “What do you mean he _earned_ it?”

“What I said. He earned it.” Eskel stepped into Geralt’s space again. “Went down on his knees an’ sucked my cock like a real whore. All pretty an’ soft an’ willin.” Quick as lightning Eskel darted his hand out and caught Geralt around the back of the neck, pulling him in hard for a kiss. Geralt tried to struggle out of it for a brief moment but then relented. “You don’t always hafta take what you want.” Eskel turned Geralt and himself so he could see Rhys over Geralt’s shoulder as he kissed and spoke into Geralt’s mouth.

“Ya’know, if you were a bit gentler with him he might let you have his mouth too.” Eskel palmed Geralt’s cock. It was hard under his hand and Geralt grunted at the touch. “He knows what he’s doin’ with a man.”

Geralt let out a cold rough laugh. “That's bullshit and you know it.” Pushing Eskel away Geralt started unbuckling his swords and armor. “I hope your bath was worth it, Pointy. That his cock down your throat bought you a few moments of alone time, because I’ll be joining you in that tub now.”

“Geralt.” Eskel’s voice held a warning tone. “The bath was my deal with him. You’ll let him finish getting clean.”

Flashing a spiteful smile at Eskel, Geralt grabbed a spare cloth in his hand and pointed at Eskel. “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of intruding on your deal with him. You think I should be kinder? Then he’ll spread his whore legs for me willingly?” Geralt turned to stare menacingly at Rhys. “How about I help you get all clean then?” 

Before Rhys could answer Geralt stepped into the tub, fingers twitching purple runes to life on the floor all the way around it. Just as Rhys started to slide deeper into the water Geralt pulled him onto his lap, tipped him backward and dipped his hair in the water briefly. Righting Rhys quickly Geralt turned him around to face away from himself and towards Eskel. Geralt’s legs wrapped around Rhys’ waist kept him from sliding down into the water as Geralt scrubbed soap into his hair. 

“Does your mouth still taste like his cock?” Geralt’s mouth was so close to Rhys’ ear he barely had to do more than whisper.

***

All the calm had been slapped out of Rhys with the bang of the door and Geralt's voice. He had curled up in the bath, legs drawn up to his chest. Every muscle tense. Ready to fight or run. His heart running away in his chest.

Eskel stepping in between Geralt and him had calmed down Rhys a little, but he didn't kid himself that he wouldn't get punished. Geralt was very clearly livid, his grip on Rhys cruelly tight. It was the only thing keeping Rhys from sliding underwater, his limps turned to jelly by the Sign, and Rhys tried not to think about that.

He gave a small yelp when Geralt let him fall backward, afraid of being held down. Geralt moved him like a ragdoll and Rhys got drawn tightly against him. With Geralt wrapped around him, Rhys couldn't even squirm, and Geralt's hard cock pressed against his ass.

Rhys let his head fall to the side, clenching his jaw at Geralt's touch. The risk of violence had been something he had been willing to take, to try and draw Eskel in, sow some seeds that might eventually bloom into distrust and maybe more. But that didn't make it much easier to endure.

"I asked you a question!" Geralt bit down hard on Rhys' eartip, making Rhys flinch so hard that some water sloshed out of the tub.

Taking a deep breath, Rhys forced himself to calm, not let his fear or anger drive him. "Yes. Of course it does, what did you think?"

He cast a glance at Eskel from under his eyelashes, trying to gauge his reaction to the situation. There was no way Eskel would stop Geralt from hurting Rhys, or taking whatever he wanted from him, but Rhys had taken note of how Eskel had warned Geralt that the deal between him and Rhys still stood. That was something Rhys thought he could build upon.

***

“I think,” Geralt growled in behind Rhys, tipping him to the side his head had lolled, “that Eskel’s cock is mine, and he’s just toying with you. But believe what you want.” Easily manipulating Rhys in the water with the Yrden still sapping his strength, Geralt floated Rhys in front of him, one hand under his back enough to keep him buoyant. The other hand made quick work of rinsing the soap from Rhys’ hair before Geralt flipped him back up.

The runes blinked out of existence and Geralt forced his feet in between Rhys’ thighs under the water, one arm in a bar across the front of Rhys’ chest. Widening his feet Geralt pulled Rhys’ legs apart and began to wash him with cloth he’d brought to the tub. There was nothing gentle about it. Geralt pressed it into his skin roughly, scrubbing over Rhys’ chest, spending extra time on each nipple until he was sure they were sore. Then moved down Rhys abdomen, grabbing at the inside of Rhys’ thighs through the cloth as he worked.

Swirling the cloth around Rhys’ cock and pulling it from the base to the tip Geralt milked Rhys’ flesh. Not even completely soft it thickened at his touch and Geralt’s lips twitched up lewdly. Repeating the motion, he made a parody of washing Rhys thoroughly. “Eskel’s right. You’re dirty. You need to be scrubbed clean. Everywhere. And since you can’t be trusted to do it yourself, well, I’ll just have to help you.”

Rhys squirmed within his arms and Geralt clamped his arms and legs down around Rhys to hold him still. “Stop it. Now!” A hard squeeze to Rhys cock made him whine and still. “You bargained for a bath, and you’re getting one. Whether you like it or not.” 

The cloth wandered down with Geralt’s hand to cup and tug at Rhys’ sac. Kneading his balls and scrubbing the cloth against the sensitive skin on every stroke down them. Then Geralt slipped it further, behind Rhys sac, working his fingers against Rhys’ hole through the material. “I want you nice and clean when I fuck you tonight.”

“Eskel says you know what to do with a cock, I don’t believe that.” Rhys tried to struggle against Geralt but the Sign had left him weak clearly, and Geralt bit at his neck as he talked. “You’re ass was too tight when I got to it. That’s alright though, I enjoy stretching it out.”

***

Rhys couldn't control the shudders that shook his body while Geralt moved him around at will, touching him wherever he wanted. It was bad enough having Geralt's hand on his _arm_ , that alone made Rhys want to bite him. But having his fingers probing at Rhys' hole had Rhys wanting to throw up.

Eskel was watching from across the room, in his spot leaned against the table. But he was frowning at Geralt, staring at what was going on. He was clearly not impressed by Geralt's behavior, although not angry. Geralt, on the other hand, was very angry. Rhys focused on that. He knew he was playing a dangerous game, Geralt was volatile and there was no telling what he would do. But this was too good an opportunity to miss. And Rhys had discovered unknown reserves of spite that fed into his anger and his will to fight.

But not with strength.

"Do you think Eskel is lying? Or do you think he doesn't know when he's getting his cock sucked by someone who knows what they're doing?"

With words. 

Right now, words were Rhys' much better weapon and it was _sharp_

***

“I think you love it. I think you want it, and your body is _eager_ for any taste of it you can get. And I think you wanted a bath, so you made a deal, that way you could tell yourself you didn’t want it, while enjoying it anyway.” Geralt jerked Rhys in his arms hard and growled. “I bet you got hard, and Eskel could _smell_ how aroused you were.”

Geralt rose up from the tub, dragging Rhys with him. “Eagerness can make up for talent. Or experience.” Grabbing at Rhys’ crotch Geralt held his cock and balls on display lewdly for Eskel. “Clean enough?”

Eskel rolled his eyes. “You’re such an ass.” Sighing he turned around and went to lay down on the bed waving Geralt off. “Yes, he’s clean.”

Dragging Rhys over to the table Geralt laid him over it sideways, facedown, and grabbed his saddlebags off a chair. They thunked down right next to Rhys at the same time Geralt lit the floor around the table with purple runes again.

From his bags Geralt took a spare set of dimeritrium shackles. Fixed one around Rhys’ wrist and removed the old cuff so that he had one on each wrist. Taking out some rope, he secured each shackle to one of the opposite corners of the long table, drawing Rhys across it until his chin almost dangled over the far edge. It left his ass perilously perched on the other side and he had to stand on his tiptoes to keep his feet on the floor.

Groaning, Rhys let his head loll weakly to the side and stared at Geralt digging in his bag again. Anger seethed in Rhys and flared to the top. “You didn’t answer my question. Are you calling Eskel a liar?”

Threading a strip of flat leather a few feet long through a steel ring he’d taken off his saddlebag, Geralt glared at Rhys. “I think it’s time for you to shut up.” 

The ring normally let him tie things to his bag but he had better ideas right now; pulling the center of the leather through it he quickly fit the leather behind Rhys’s neck, forcing his jaw open and setting the ring behind his teeth while he was still weak from the Sign. Pulling the two strips tight, Geralt tied it behind Rhys’ head. It was quite effective at forcing his mouth wide open, guarding against his vicious teeth and keeping him from _talking_.

He could moan and groan, grunt and cry all he wanted. But words would happen no more.

Geralt laughed. “Very nice. I like this look on you.” Walking around behind Rhys, Geralt slid his leather belt off. The sound of it made Rhys tense and try to scrabble across the table but he had nowhere to go. Geralt wrapped it tightly around his legs about his knees. Holding them tight together and buckling it.

“Now, I let you have your bath, but you’ve gone and pissed me off.” Geralt’s voice rose with each word, the anger finally seeping out. “And I think you have more than earned a punishment. Then I’ll test out your throat for myself and _decide_ if it's any good.” The first slap of Geralt’s hand on his ass was hard. No preamble and no warning. And it didn’t let up.

***

Eskel had watched from the bed, leisurely reclined on a pile of pillows, while Geralt manhandled Rhys over to the table. Bent him over it and shackled him down. Rhys’ heart had been rabbiting along the entire time and the acrid smell of fear had been present in the air but when Geralt slipped his belt out, secured his legs and told Rhys what he planned to do the miasma of scents spiked.

A note of real desperation was present in Rhys’ cry when Geralt landed the first blow to his ass that had Eskel up and on his feet. With his mouth forced open and his hands bound to the table, Rhys wouldn’t have any way of signaling if things became too much. And Eskel suspected that if Geralt was planning on spanking Rhys for long it might become too much. Eskel was a master at breaking Rhys down with spanking himself.

Crouching down in front of Rhys, Eskel kept his movements slow and peaceful. Cupped Rhys’ cheek in his hand and pressed a coin from his bag into Rhys’ hand. Rhys pressed it right back into his.

“Geralt, wait. Redwood.” Watching Rhys’ wide eyes, and listening to his huffing breaths, Eskel brought his other hand up to cup Rhys’ face with both hands now. “Hey, ‘m gonna take this off alright?”

Rhys gave a slow nod that sped up as the idea seemed to register with him and Geralt stood stock still behind him, face unreadable. With practiced ease Eskel loosened the knot Geralt had made in the leather strap behind Rhys’ head, turned the metal ring flat in Rhys’ mouth, hooking it with a finger and pulling it out.

Rhys swallowed immediately, blinking away a few tears that had gathered in his eyes, and Eskel ran a soothing hand along his hair. Bent forward slowly to put a kiss at the corner of Rhys’ cheek and mouth. “‘S alright.” Eskel waited with his face laid against Rhys’, running his hand down Rhys’ hair along his back over and again. Holding up two fingers at Geralt at the end of each stroke, he indicated that they just needed to wait.

When Rhys’ breathing was no longer panicked and his heart beat more steadily in Eskel’s ear, he spoke calmly. “D’ya wanna be done? Or d’ya jus’ need somethin’ different from us?”

***

Rhys had panicked from the moment the gag was in his mouth and he had realized he had no way of safewording that was reliable. And with the way he was tied, he thought he might need to if Geralt planned to have his mouth.

Eskel's hands and voice calmed him, and Geralt immediately stopped when Eskel gave the safeword. It reassured Rhys and made it easier to control his breathing and find his way out of his fear.

"I can't take being tied like this and having the gag. The gag is fine, in another position, but not here. Not if you want to fuck my mouth." Rhys twisted his head to look at Geralt over his shoulder, tried to catch his gaze. He didn't want Geralt to feel like he had messed up badly, because he hadn't. "Please, come here? Touch me?"

When Geralt was kneeling in front of him next to Eskel, with one hand slowly petting Rhys' hair, Rhys took another deep breath. He smiled at Geralt, turned his face into his hand.

"We can keep playing, I'm okay. You can gag me again, differently. I like it because I'm obviously _getting_ to you. Or, if you really want to use my mouth, you can use the ring on me when I'm on my knees. I don't mind that. I just can't do it tied down like this, I think." Rhys nudged Geralt's hand with his head, like a cat asking to get petted.

***

Some of the dismay at having been jarred out of his head by the safeword melted away at Rhys’ open desire to be touched still. Geralt remembered how much he had wanted Rhys to touch him when this had happened with him and crowded right in next to Eskel, ran his finger behind Rhys’ ear.

“It’s alright.” Geralt gave Rhys a genuine smile. He looked so utterly helpless tied to the table but he was clearly not done playing now that he’d calmed down. “I don’t have to fuck your mouth today. You wanted the table. Let’s do that and we can figure out the ring thing another day.” 

Geralt kept his hand moving on Rhys’ ear and neck, Eskel still petting down his hair and back. “Would it be alright if I gagged you with the leather tie, like I did the belt before?”

A warm hand came to rest on Geralt’s lower back and he tensed for a brief second before relaxing into Eskel’s touch. He kept his focus on Rhys though, waiting for his answer.

***

The tension left Rhys completely under Eskel's and Geralt's touch and he gave a sigh, happy that this had gone so well after all.

"Yes, I'd like that. I'm feeling very reckless right now, so it's probably better to keep me gagged." Rhys grinned, fangs on display. "I wouldn't stop poking at you otherwise. At the sore spot I just discovered. And if you're up to it, I want to continue with the spanking, too. I want it to hurt when you fuck me."

Rhys would have loved to touch Geralt right now, and Eskel. But he also wanted to keep playing and not be untied. They would have time to touch and cuddle afterwards.

***

Eskel huffed out a short quiet laugh. “Reckless Rhys. Yes you are. An’ I love you.” With a kiss to the corner of Rhys’ mouth, Eskel pressed the coin back into Rhys’ hand, curled his fingers around it and rubbed his thumb over Rhys’ knuckles.

Unthreading the ring from the leather Eskel handed it to Geralt. Pulled him into a hug and gave him a not so gentle bite to the side of the neck. “You did good.” Eskel licked over the dents his teeth had left. “Tell him he was too noisy an’ gag him again.” 

Another bite right over the same spot made Geralt’s pulse leap under Eskel’s mouth and he moved away, leaving Geralt standing in front of Rhys tied to the table. Resumed his place on the bed, watching from the pillows as the scene fell back into place.

***

Something about being told he did good made Geralt relax even further. Rhys’ willingness to continue, his eagerness even, combined with those words and the way Rhys had accepted his touch so earnestly helped put aside the worry that he’d gone too far. 

It was the bite to his neck though, and the suggestion for how to weave the new gag back into the scene that sent Geralt’s mind sinking back into place. By the time Eskel bit him again he was ready to go.

Rounding on Rhys, Geralt glared at him. “Gods, you’re fucking noisy.” Winding the leather strip twice around Rhys’ head, Geralt started to tie it off. “I was gonna fuck your mouth. See if it was really so good, but I can’t even get hard with you wailing over a little spanking.”

Patting Rhys’ cheek with a vicious smile Geralt walked around behind him again. “Now at least you’ll be muffled.” Geralt ran a hand over the redness on Rhys’ ass cheek from the first few blows he’d landed. It was warm to the touch and Rhys shifted.

Swinging his hand up he caught the bottom of Rhys’ ass. Watched it shake with the blow. And then struck another. Rhys moaned into the gag. Geralt gripped one cheek in each hand and let his fingers dig in, pulled them apart and looked his fill for a moment. Gods he couldn’t wait to fuck into that, it would be made tighter by the way Rhys’ legs were held together.

A whine from Rhys pulled his attention away and Geralt let his hand connect again.

***

The relief from Geralt's decision to not use his mouth was short lived for Rhys. It ended when more blows rained down on his ass, shaking his whole body. Each one was hard enough that the pain hadn't even started to fully bloom by the time the next one landed.

After a few seconds, it all ran together in one huge wave that crashed over Rhys. It suffocated the fire of his anger, swept it away, and only fear and pain were left. Rhys bit down hard on the leather. Geralt wanted to see him cry and he didn't intend to give him that satisfaction.

His body, once again, decided differently. The tears came unbidden, rolling down his face and blurring his vision. Soon he was sobbing, fighting for air in huge gasps. His legs quivered with the strain, he had to stand on tiptoes and each blow unbalanced him. Rhys grabbed the chains of the shackles and pulled, in a vain effort to free himself. 

A last hard blow forced a scream from him, loud even behind the gag. He lay panting and shuddering across the table, helpless to do anything but wait for what Geralt planned next.

***

Rhys’ last loud scream had sunk right down to Geralt’s cock, like hot liquid spilling over his groin, and Geralt bit his lip to stifle his own moan. Ran his hand over Rhys’ red hot ass. Oh fuck it felt good.

Taking his cock in his hand Geralt pressed the head of it into the heated skin of Rhys’ ass cheek, a bit shocked to see himself leaking from nothing more than spanking Rhys. The pearly fluid smeared on Rhys’ skin and left a glistening trail. Laying over Rhys, Geralt let him feel his weight a bit, growled in his ear. Bit at his shoulder.

“I was gonna fuck your mouth but your ass is just too tempting and it’s all mine. You don’t trade that for baths now do you?” Geralt stepped away abruptly, got some oil out of his saddle bag and returned to press two oiled fingers into Rhys’ hole.

“Don’t worry when I’m done with you, your ass will be dripping cum again. Then maybe you can bargain for another bath. Round and round, we’ll use you.” Satisfied that Rhys was oiled and stretched enough that he wouldn’t hurt him more than Rhys wanted him to Geralt lined the head of his cock up and pushed in slow.

He wanted Rhys to feel every bit of him. Squeezing Rhys’ ass cheeks together Geralt leaned over him and spoke low and angrily. Angled his hips back and rolled them forward, shoving himself inside that incredibly tight heat. “You think Eskel’s being nice. He’s just using you like me, and you can’t even see it. But I can.”

Geralt huffed out a dirty laugh. “Yeah, I take what’s mine. And then you run to him, and you think he’s saving you but really he’s just taking more of you in a different way.” Picking up speed, Geralt fucked into Rhys hard, forcing his hips against the edge of the table and sending his body rocking. Every time his groin pressed into Rhys’ ass he could feel the incredible heat of Rhys' skin against it, and Geralt didn’t think he’d last long like this.

***

Rhys closed his eyes and tried to focus on Geralt's words. He had gotten the completely wrong impression. The one Rhys _wanted_ him to have. If he hadn't been gagged, Rhys would have been tempted to tell him, just to make him more angry. That would have endangered his whole plan, Geralt needed to go on thinking that he had Rhys all figured out. Go on underestimating him.

The satisfaction that this was working didn't keep the disgust at bay. Did nothing to help with the brutal intrusion of Geralt's fingers and cock in his ass, nor with the pain of each thrust into him. Geralt's hips slamming into Rhys' ass, hot and painfully sensitive from the blows, and his cock pistoning in and out, stretching him. 

Every roll of Geralt's hips pressed Rhys' cock against the table, adding both pain and pleasure. There was no denying his arousal, and Rhys was sure Geralt would take note of it. But whatever Geralt said, it still didn't mean Rhys wanted any of this. 

Blinking away tears, Rhys caught Eskel's gaze, watching the spectacle impassively. There was no help there, but Rhys had known that. A hard thrust and a hand grabbing his hair forced another loud cry from Rhys and he squeezed his eyes shut. Muscles straining to follow the fist gripping his hair, Rhys gave a helpless sob.

***

Geralt craned Rhys neck back by his hair, forcing his eyes away from Eskel. “Don’t look at him. I’m the one who's making your legs shake.” And it was true, the tremble of Rhys muscles as he strained in the position sent Geralt right over the edge with a hoarse roar.

Dropping his hold on Rhys hair, Geralt planted his hands on either side of Rhys’ heaving ribcage and let his hips stutter through it. Jerking in and out, the tightness of Rhys ass made better by the sudden added slickness of his cum, hot and wet all around him. “Fuck. Gods. Your ass is too good to have been used before.” Geralt fell forward over Rhys, breathing hard on his back.

After catching his breath for a moment Geralt ran his fingernails down either side of Rhys ribcage, drawing a pained cry from him and triggering a delicious clench on his softening cock. Geralt laughed victoriously. “You liked it. I can smell it.”

Peeling himself off of Rhys, Geralt moved to the front of the table, undoing the ropes holding the shackles and transferring Rhys’ wrists back to a single set. He left Rhys draped over the table and went back behind him to remove the belt. With a hand on Rhys’ hip Geralt rolled him over on the table.

“Ooh look at that. You leaked all over the floor. Does Eskel do that for you?” Geralt laughed again, completely thrilled at the state of Rhys’ body. Perpetually aroused by the punishments he put it through. “Does he?” Geralt repeated with a hint of anger in his voice, flicking Rhys’ stiff cock where it stood away from his body.

Furrowing his eyebrows at Rhys Geralt barked out a laugh. “Oh that’s right. You can’t answer me, I gagged you. That’s alright, I have all the answer I need.” Running the back of a finger up the underside of Rhys’ cock Geralt collected some of Rhys’ precum and licked it off of himself. “Right here.” Taking Rhys in hand he bent low and tapped the head of Rhys’ cock against the flat of his tongue staring at Rhys’ wide eyes. Gave it a slow lick.

***

Rhys moaned into the gag, biting down hard on the leather. He had known Geralt would force him to come, and in truth there wasn't much to force. Even the slight touch of his tongue sent shocks of pleasure up Rhys' spine, making him shudder. In an involuntary twitch, he bucked up into Geralt's hand, against his tongue. 

The deep ache of his ass, inside and out, was shoved in the background by the helpless bliss of Geralt's touch. Rhys keened, hands twisting the chain of his shackles. He couldn't help but press his legs against Geralt's sides, his thigh muscles quivering.

Geralt's tongue circled the head of Rhys cock and he sucked on it, hand grasping and squeezing the shaft. It was too much for Rhys and he arched his back violently, fell back onto the table. His cock throbbed in Geralt's mouth, spilling cum that ran down the shaft between Geralt's fingers and down on Rhys' balls and thighs, mixing with Geralt's cum there. 

Rhys lay panting, legs spread wide and eyes fixed on Geralt. He would get punished if he looked away, Geralt had made sure he had learned that lesson well. A shudder of revulsion ran over Rhys as he watched Geralt, still milking his cock with rough strokes.

***

Smile reeking of satisfaction, Geralt wiped Rhys' cum on his belly. "Sucking Eskel's cock didn't do that for you did it? Your body wants _me_ , whether you admit it to yourself or not. It comes for _me_. Not Eskel. And it hardly takes a touch to _my_ cock here." Geralt emphasized his point with a flick to Rhys' now soft cock.

It yanked a hoarse scream from Rhys behind the gag and Geralt laughed. He grabbed behind Rhys' knees and pulled him to the edge of the table, standing between them. 

Drawing Rhys up into his arms Geralt's laugh turned soft, playful even. "Doing alright for me, Rhys?" Rhys was lolling against him as Geralt loosened the knot on the gag, rubbed his jaw to soothe the ache.

Removing the shackles, Geralt carried Rhys over to the bed. It took some effort to disentangle from him and give him to Eskel, because Rhys had wound himself around Geralt like a monkey.

"Keep him for me? I'll get us some water to clean up with." Geralt's voice betrayed his exhaustion.

***

Rhys gladly rolled into Eskel's embrace and let himself be held. He dozed until Geralt had returned with the water and Eskel put him down on the bed so they could clean him up. They moved Rhys around and he went where they nudged him, rolling this way and that.

Accepting a cup of apple juice from Eskel, Rhys drank it down thirstily and handed it back. He sat leaned against Eskel, watching Geralt put the bowl of water down on the table and wiping the table down quickly before returning to bed. 

With one outstretched arm, Rhys welcomed him and let himself fall over on his side, stretching out next to Geralt. He drew him close, burying his face against Geralt's neck and breathing in the scent of clean sweat. Behind him, the mattress dipped and the creak of leather and ring of metal told him Eskel was getting undressed. Rhys reach out blindly behind himself when the mattress dipped again and Eskel nestled into him.

"I loved all of this." Rhys turned over to place a kiss on Eskel's jaw and back to kiss Geralt's lips. "I love where this is going. And I want to try the gag next time." He gave a little shudder at the thought.

***

"I'm glad. I want to try the gag too." Geralt wrapped his arms around Rhys, curling one behind his head to hold Rhys' face to the front of his neck. He was utterly exhausted. "You told me not to tell you what I was going to do, so I didn't, and I guess I overwhelmed you a little bit? But we can do it differently, next time. With you on your knees."

A hand had unwound the leather holding his hair while he was talking and Geralt honestly wasn't sure who's it had been. Somewhere along the way his eyes had fallen shut. He was certain now that it was Eskel's fingers pressing at his skull and carding through the strands.

Laying one leg over Rhys, stretching his foot to reach Eskel, Geralt drifted. Mind moving from thought to thought stopping only briefly. "I don't know how you can be so jealous all the time," Geralt reached blindly to pat Eskel's cheek, "it's exhausting."

Chuckling, Eskel smiled despite the fact that neither Geralt nor Rhys would see it. They would hear it in his voice. "It comes naturally." 

Pressing a kiss to Rhys' shoulder, Eskel ran his fingers through Geralt's hair. Wrapped his leg over Rhys' and tucked his foot between Geralts legs. "Or it used to. Maybe it still does, jus' not with all of us."

A pair of noncommittal hums was all the answer Eskel got. Geralt and Rhys already had fallen fast asleep in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT INFO  
> rape play  
> captivity play  
> safeword use  
> mindgames


	11. Your Map of Desire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I want to have no way to escape how good it feels. Make me cry. Force me to let go an’ then still be there for me when I do. Both of you._  
>  Eskel asks for what he wants, and with Rhys' help, Geralt gives it to him.

Rhys stirred and blinked awake, still nestled between Eskel and Geralt. It had grown dark outside and most of the room lay in shadows. The full moon painted a wide stripe of silvery light on the floor. On either side of Rhys, the witchers were still asleep. It was a rare thing, Eskel in particular slept lightly and usually was awake before Rhys.

He turned over on his back and settled down again, holding Geralt in one arm. Eskel had curled up next to him, head resting on one arm, and Rhys studied his face. In his sleep, Eskel lost some of his gruffness and it made room for a vulnerability Rhys had rarely seen in him when awake. The lifelong habit of guarding his expression fell away and Eskel seemed softer and younger. Rhys had seen Eskel open up to him plenty of times but this was different and he was fascinated to see it. 

Eventually, Rhys' stomach overruled that fascination by pointing out that there was cold chicken on the sideboard, and bread and apple juice. Rhys extricated himself from between his lovers and padded across the room to get it, wolfing down a chunk of meat immediately. He turned, plate and jug in hand, to be greeted by Eskel sitting up and smiling at him.

Rhys climbed back into bed, leaning against the headboard with Eskel at his side. Geralt was waking up but didn't yet seem ready to do more than throw an arm across both of them and press his face into Rhys' thigh.

"Did you sleep well? I'm sorry for waking you, but I'm famished." Rhys offered a piece of chicken to Eskel.

***

Putting an arm around Rhys’ shoulders Eskel drew him in, kissed the corner of his mouth. Taking the chicken Eskel swallowed a bite. “Mmm, I did. I don’t mind wakin’ up with you though.” He didn’t either. Seeing Rhys in the moonlight was a rather alluring sight. Pale skin almost appearing to glow.

“You seemed to really enjoy that whole scene. ‘M glad it worked for you. An’ for Geralt.” Eskel smiled. He’d seen how aroused Geralt was by spanking Rhys over the table and he _completely_ understood that. It wouldn’t shock him if Geralt didn't know exactly why he’d been so aroused by it though. Taking control of someone else like that was new territory for Geralt and he likely didn’t have a good feel for what he enjoyed the most about it yet.

Eskel let his lips brush up against Rhys’ ear while he whispered in it conspiratorially. “I think he’s fallin’ in love with spankin’ your ass red. I need to teach him to use a bit of variety. Get your thighs, land a soft blow once in a while. Keep you on your toes so you never know what to expect.”

The reaction from Rhys’ body was immediate and Eskel laughed lowly. “Yup, definitely doin’ that.”

“Doing what?” Geralt stretched and looked up at Rhys and Eskel. It was easy to see the two of them in the low light with his mutations. Eskel was grinning like a cat that had caught a particularly fat bird and Rhys was leaning into him.

Rhys glanced down at Geralt, the light reflecting green in his eyes, and reached down to run a hand through Geralt’s hair. “Teaching you how to torture me better.”

Laughing at the idea, Geralt sat up and crawled onto Rhys’ lap. Straddled his legs, and rested his arms on Rhys’ shoulders. “I thought I tortured you pretty well.”

“It _was_ a sight to behold. Can’t imagine how that felt. To be held down over a table like that.” It had clearly done a lot for Rhys, he’d come nearly right away after that with barely any stimulation. Eskel wondered what he got from it. From losing that much control.

It intrigued him more now than it had before. Maybe because he’d explored it a little bit with Rhys alone. And what they had tried had been good. But it had also been extremely gentle. Nothing like this. Not that Eskel wanted pain. He didn’t.

But he did want to understand what Rhys got from all of this. It couldn’t just be about pain. There had to be more than that to it and Eskel was intensely curious what it felt like to have that much control wrested from him. Unbidden the memory of Rhys holding him down to the bed, fucking his ass, and gripping his hair flooded back. How he hadn’t been able to hide, and had been so completely washed away by his orgasm.

He’d been totally unprepared for then. Now though. Eskel blinked and realized both Rhys and Geralt were staring at him and he’d been silent for quite some time after wondering aloud how it must have felt.

“If you two are up for a bit more fun, I’d like to try it, see how it feels?” Eskel was looking at Rhys really, because he knew if anyone would do this for him it would be Rhys. “Not on the table, but on the bed.”

***

"You know I am always up for that." Rhys sat up straight, already excited. All traces of sleepiness got chased out of him by the prospect of being allowed to do this, and together with Geralt. Who looked a little taken aback by Eskel's suggestion, but not unwilling.

"I can hold you down here just as well as on the table." A slow grin stole itself on Rhys' face. "Do you want to be able to hide? I would like to be allowed to hold at least one of your arms, so you can't get away, but I can let you hide. And I think we should start out slow, play a bit."

A thought struck Rhys. "Can I blindfold you? Not the whole time, but in the beginning?"

***

Unlike before when Eskel had asked Rhys to boss him around in the bedroom he wasn’t worried now. They had talked so much before about Eskel’s boundaries and where they lay that he felt comfortable letting Rhys lead him through this tiny foray into giving up control of the situation.

“I think I’d like you to hold my arm, or both of ‘em even, if you want.” Eskel let himself imagine the situation for a minute. What had been so powerful about that time Rhys had lost control a little bit with him and what he’d liked so much about it that it scared him. 

The idea of being blindfolded in front of Geralt was a little frightening, it made Eskel’s heart speed up without his permission, but he could do it. If he could show that to Rhys, then he could show it Geralt too, it just took a bigger leap of faith that Geralt would _want_ to see him like that.

“Now that you mention it, I think startin’ out slow 's a good idea. If you jus’ throw me down an’ fuck me, I’ll fight it an’ you know it. So yeah, you can blindfold me. You decide if ‘m allowed to hide. But I do wanna end up face down with your cock in my ass, an’ Geralt's in my mouth. I want to have no way to escape how good it feels. Make me cry. Force me to let go an’ then still be there for me when I do. Both of you.”

***

Geralt stared openly at Eskel. Unsure of what to even say, let alone do. Of course he wanted to do this. To see Eskel so completely out of control. And yet the idea was frightening to him because Eskel was always in control for him. If Eskel wasn’t in control who would keep him from going too far? From hurting Eskel by accident?

“You want that? I-” Geralt still hadn’t found the words so instead he moved a hand over to Eskel’s cheek and kissed him, “-I would love to help give that to you but I just don’t want to hurt you.”

One of Eskel’s hands wound around the back of his neck pulling Geralt close for another kiss, his other arm still laying across Rhys’ shoulders. “You won’t hurt me. Rhys will watch out for you, be in charge of things for me, wontcha Rhys?”

***

"I will." Rhys nudged Geralt over into Eskel's lap and climbed off the bed to dig in his bag for a blindfold and a chime ball. He put the ball aside for now and knelt next to Eskel again.

Pushing a hand into Geralt's hair, Rhys placed a kiss to his temple. "You will do fine. If you're not sure what to do or don't feel good about anything, just tell me."

That got a nod from Geralt who seemed to be all out of words. Rhys put a hand under Eskel's chin and tipped his head back for a kiss. He put the blindfold over Eskel's eyes, tied it securely and kissed him again.

"Lie down for me, please?" Rhys pulled Geralt to his side of the bed, leaving Eskel to stretch out before them. In the moonlight, every scar and every muscle was cast into stark relief and Rhys took a moment to look his fill, one hand caressing Geralt's back. 

He moved to sit between Eskel's legs, nudging them apart with a hand to a thigh. It drew a shuddering breath from Eskel and he grabbed the sheets. 

Rhys pulled Geralt into a kiss. "Lie with him? He can hold on to you."

He waited until Geralt was stretched out next to Eskel before bending down for a kiss to Eskel's hip. Moving down slowly, he nibbled and kissed his way down to Eskel's thigh and from there to his knee. One hand resting on Geralt's leg, to reassure him, Rhys left the other splayed on Eskel's stomach, as a reminder to keep still.

***

Geralt was fascinated by how easily Eskel had followed Rhys orders. It was always intriguing to him to see how Eskel and Rhys interacted together, but this, this was something else.

Like deciding on the best type of tea to go with lunch, they had listed the options, weighed the benefits, and decided on the proper selections for how best to take Eskel apart. Geralt was flabbergasted. 

Staying close to Rhys he waited for some kind of instruction, some hint as to what he was supposed to _do_. Geralt had never seen Eskel so docile, laying blindfolded in the moonlight on the bed. He wanted to reach out and touch Eskel, map every one of his scars.

So when Rhys told Geralt to lay down with Eskel it was easy to obey. Eskel reached out blindly and Geralt put his arm over Eskel's chest, tucking his hand behind Eskel's head.

Eskel's hands came up to grab at Geralt's arm. His head twisting toward Geralt despite his inability to see through the blindfold. His fingers bit hard into Geralt's forearm but Geralt didn't mind at all.

***

The desire to move was _enormous_. Eskel wanted to squirm away, scrabble his feet on the sheets and say, enough. But he already knew Rhys wouldn't allow it. That was, after all, the entire point of this.

Eskel hadn't realized Rhys was going to go straight for his thighs though. They were sensitive and Rhys' mouth was blazingly hot on them, licking and sucking, even giving the occasional light scrape of fang and tusk. 

Gripping hard onto Geralt, Eskel moaned without realizing it. A low needy sound and Geralt's mouth immediately covered his to swallow it up. As soon as his mouth was free again Eskel begged.

"Please. Feels good." Unable to help himself Eskel tried to straighten his legs around Rhys. Not trying to escape precisely, just not able to hold still through the pleasure either.

***

Using gentle force, Rhys held Eskel's legs where he wanted them, until he was finished kissing his way down the other thigh. Then he let go and came forward to lean over Eskel for a kiss to his lips. 

He unwound Eskel's fingers from Geralt's arm and took hold of one hand, held it down next to Eskel's head. Tipping Geralt's head up into a kiss, Rhys took his hand and intertwined their fingers. Using Geralt's palm, he rubbed slow circles over Eskel's nipple. 

Eskel squirmed and closed his fingers hard around Rhys' hand. He was barely containing his moans, and Rhys wanted to hear him beg again. So he let go of Geralt's hand, whispering to him. "Don't stop. No matter what he says, you keep touching him. We're allowed."

Rhys cupped Eskel's face, ran his thumb over Eskel's lips. "Tell me your safeword?"

"--blackberry." The answer was slow to come. Not because Eskel couldn't remember, Rhys was sure, but because their touches made it hard to think and breathe for him. He was breathing fast, his pulse galloping away.

"Very good." Rhys gave a slow pinch to Eskel's nipple, licked over it when it grew hard. Next to him, Geralt was exploring on his own and Rhys gave a satisfied nod. He kept caressing Eskel's chest, peppered in a few bites now and then. And he very slowly rolled his hips to brush his cock up against Eskel's. Nowhere near firm enough to be satisfying but more than enough to tease and frustrate.

***

With only one heel planted on the bed Eskel tried to roll his hips back, seeking a real fulfilling contact but Rhys kept himself just out of reach. He gave a quiet frustrated growl, hips falling back to the mattress helplessly.

Even behind the blindfold Eskel could tell whose touches were whose. Rhys had a pinpoint focus and no hesitation at all about going for exactly what he knew were Eskel's weakest spots. Whereas Geralt's fingers walked his chest, exploring, looking for a reaction. Every so often they would wander back to his nipple, roll a thumb over it.

When Geralt pinched it, pulling the skin around his nipple up and away from him, Eskel's mind went blank. The bare scrape of Geralt's teeth over the pebbled nub made Eskel give a hoarse shout. Head raising off the pillow and flopping back down. "No. Fuck. Too good."

There was a shuffle and some noise but Eskel was too disoriented to understand it, couldn't piece it together in his mind with Rhys' fangs denting his chest. And then his nipple was pulled away and Geralt's teeth grazed it again.

"Too good. Too good." It was loud at first but when Geralt didn't relent the words fell soft, a gently repeating mantra. He didn't deserve this but he couldn't stop them either. At least he tried. He squeezed Rhys' hand in strong pulses where it pinned his to the mattress.

***

Nonplussed Geralt's mind spun. He couldn't reconcile what he was seeing in front of him pinned to the bed by his own request with the man who'd shown nothing but utter desire for control for over eighty years. Eskel had _asked_ for this, and _blackberry_ \- the word had come slow but it wasn't made up today either. It was obvious that Rhys and Eskel had been up to things like this before.

Not that that bothered Geralt in the slightest. He had no desire to bend Eskel's will to his own, the idea was terrifying in fact. But watching Rhys do it, being included on it. Well, that had him aching between his legs again.

His curiosity had led him to run his teeth over Eskel's nipple while pulling it away from his body and Eskel's reaction had startled him. Eskel clearly wanted him to stop. But Rhys' hand had shot out and he'd given Geralt a wicked grin and a nod, pulling his head back to Eskel's chest.

 _We're allowed_. Rhys' words rolled around in Geralt's mind. The more he did it the more Eskel softened to it but it still made him nervous. Obviously this was a thing between them, but it scared Geralt to push Eskel like this. What if he pushed too hard? 

A hand petting his own hair settled Geralt. Reminded him that Rhys was here with him and in charge. If they had done this before then Rhys knew what was allowed and not. He wouldn't let Geralt hurt Eskel.

***

Geralt had shied like a horse at Eskel's begging but had calmed down quickly at Rhys' touch, settling down again to his exploration.

Rhys had avoided Eskel arching up into the roll of his hips until Eskel had given up and stayed down. Only then had Rhys let their bodies touch more firmly. Reaching down, he took their cocks in hand and gave them a slow stroke. His thumb rubbed over the heads to gather up precum and spread it around, to a choked cry from Eskel. 

Hearing him beg was thrilling and Rhys kept up his teasing a while longer just to hear it. To see how desperate Eskel would become. The low whispering turned into loud words while they caressed him, kissing, licking and biting. 

"Please! Fuck me!" It was almost a shout, and Eskel was bucking his hips, fucking into Rhys' fist, clutching at him and at Geralt so hard that Rhys already knew he would sport bruises later. 

He touched Geralt to get his attention. "Come over here, please." 

When they both sat off to one side, Rhys grabbed Eskel's hip and shoulder and flipped him over easily. He used a big pillow to prop Eskel's upper body up a little so he would have an easier time reaching Geralt's cock once they came to that.

"Take off the blindfold? Get comfortable in front of him." Rhys went to get the bottle of oil in the meantime and returned to sit between Eskel's legs. Eskel spread them apart readily at Rhys' touch, muscles shifting and standing out tense under his skin. Rhys traced them, up Eskel's legs and his back. 

He poured some oil into his palm and spread it on his cock with a few strokes, biting his lip to keep from moaning aloud at the touch. Touching Eskel's hole, he slicked it up and pushed two fingers inside, scissoring them gently and slowly. 

"If you want Geralt's cock, you only have to ask for it. But only once I've got you pinned down." Rhys let a little bit of a possessive growl slip into his voice.

***

Eskel looked beautiful like this and Geralt couldn't stop himself from staring. Removing the blindfold as instructed he was rapt as Eskel sucked in a lungful of air and blinked in the moonlight as if it were broad day. The groan that fell from his lips when Eskel saw Geralt watching went straight to Geralt's cock. 

Blinking slowly Eskel let his head rest on one of Geralt's thighs and closed his eyes. Geralt thought he looked as though he were trying to work through a puzzle, eyes moving behind his lids, and licking his lips. 

Amber eyes flashed open wide and stared right through Geralt when Rhys touched him. Lips slightly parted and panting through it Eskel moaned low and wanton. Needy. Geralt wasn't sure what to do, so he petted Eskel's hair. Running his fingers through it soothingly, tugging at the strands.

Eskel arched his back. Pushed his ass toward Rhys creating a gorgeous curve of muscle that Geralt marveled at. It was unbelievable the way he offered himself like this.

"Rhys, please. I don' wanna be teased." Eskel' s voice had gone soft and it made Geralt's heart ache a bit. Eskel just wanted to be loved, held, fucked. Which was strange but so ungodly erotic at the same time. It was the softest Geralt had ever seen him.

***

Eskel was at a loss. With his head resting on Geralt's thigh and Rhys fingers in his ass he didn't know what else to do. How else to beg. He needed Rhys to fuck him. And it wasn't happening.

The possessive note in Rhys' voice has sent a shiver up his spine. His cock was hard and trapped against the bed. "I jus' wanna feel full. I want _you_. I can't wait any longer." The brief thought that Rhys might deny him longer made Eskel blink hard. Tears spilled out.

Trying to push up the bed and bury his face in the crook of Geralt's hip, Eskel let a quiet sob slip out. Overwhelmed by the waiting.

"Please…" Eskel whispered into Geralt's hip and then let the tears come. Let Rhys decide for him what he would get and when. Blackness swallowed his mind and the whoosh of his heartbeat took over his hearing.

***

Rhys pulled his fingers out of Eskel, set himself against Eskel's hole and sunk in slowly. Fucking into him in short thrusts until he was sheathed. He pressed his face between Eskel's shoulderblades and just breathed until his heart was no longer racing.

Grabbing Eskel's wrists, Rhys pulled his arms on his back until he could hold both wrists in one hand, putting enough of his weight on them that Eskel couldn't easily escape. He nudged Eskel's legs further apart with his knees and propped himself up on one elbow. With his fangs and tusks holding the back of Eskel's neck, Rhys gave a long, leisurely thrust into him. It pushed Eskel forward into Geralt, made him gasp among his tears.

Rhys shifted his grip for a better hold, setting his knees on either sides of Eskel's legs, pressing them together. The sudden tightness forced a loud moan from him, muffled against Eskel's back. He set a slow rhythm, arching his back over Eskel, plunging into him again and again.

"You can ask for a cock in your mouth now." It was a struggle to keep his voice steady, but Rhys managed.

***

The moist huff of Eskel’s breath against the inside of Geralt’s hip was downright maddening. It left his skin sensitive to the slightest rush of cool air. When Rhys’ thrust jostled Eskel forward against him, making him gasp, it prickled on Geralt’s skin and his cock jerked.

Eskel’s mouth hung temptingly open and his eyes gazed unfocused into the distance. Geralt _knew_ that if he placed his finger on Eskel's tongue he would close his mouth around it instinctively and suck. The invitation beckoned to him, after all it wasn’t like it was his cock. He hadn’t been told not to give Eskel anything else to suck on; Eskel had only been told he had to ask for Geralt’s cock.

With a hand still running through Eskel’s hair Geralt frowned down at him. At those tempting lips, begging to have something slip between them. Laying his other hand on Eskel’s cheek, Geralt swept his thumb over Eskel’s lips and was rewarded with a needy whimper.

***

Eskel licked his lips and tried to chase Geralt’s thumb. It was so close. His lips ached where it had brushed against them and he wanted it back. The weight of Rhys pressing his wrists into his back and the way his head was laying on Geralt’s leg prevented Eskel from being able to follow it when it moved away though.

The whine that slipped out was pitiful even to Eskel’s ears, but the thought of asking Geralt for his cock was terrifying. Geralt knew what he wanted, why did Rhys want him to _say_ it? When it was a silent request Eskel never had to face the fear he might be told no. He didn’t want to be told no, he wanted to be told yes. To be told he was good and deserved this after all. But to get that he’d have to ask. Eskel shivered at the thought.

The unrelenting press of Rhys into Eskel’s ass threatened to become too much. Without anything else to focus on Eskel felt oversensitive and cried out. “I want-” Eskel grunted as Rhys drove into him again, that same maddeningly slow thrust and a growl. The pinpricks of his fangs and tusks resting on the back of Eskel’s neck.

“-I need.” Eskel gulped down air and clenched his fist around the chime ball. “Please let me have his cock in my mouth now, Rhys.” All the air ran out of Eskel at once and his words were gone. Suddenly he was drained, all the fight he had in him to struggle— against being told to ask, against being held down, all of it— was gone.

***

Rhys hadn't told Eskel _whom_ he should ask and he made a mental note of the fact that Eskel has asked _him_ , in the furthest corner of his mind that was still somewhat in control. The rest of him wanted to have Eskel, take him, make him Rhys' own. Chase his pleasure and lay Eskel bare while doing it.

After one last bite to Eskel's neck, only just not hard enough to break the skin, Rhys let go. A quick swipe of his tongue to lick over the marks he had left, then he looked up at Geralt. 

"Let him have your cock." He rocked back on his knees so he could fist one hand in Eskel's hair for a moment. Not holding him down, but Rhys wanted to feel him move and take Geralt. 

Eskel lay soft and pliant before him, all tension washed out of his body. He went where they guided him, let them decide over him and use him. With a soft moan, he swallowed Geralt's cock down.

For a moment, Rhys let go of Eskel's wrists to reposition himself. Still crouching over Eskel, he held his wrists down next to his chest, gave Eskel enough room to push his upper body up a little to make sucking Geralt's cock easier for him. But with Rhys' weight on top of him, hips pressed down into the mattress and arms held tight, Eskel still couldn't escape. He still was helpless to take what they gave him.

With a hard thrust that pushed Eskel forward onto Geralt's cock, Rhys picked up his rhythm again, faster this time. He tried to stay still in between thrusts but it got harder and harder to restrain himself and finally he gave up, fucked into Eskel at a punishing pace. Eskel's muffled moans and gasps around Geralt's cock urged him on. 

"You're so good for us. Come for me—" It wasn't the request Rhys had meant to make it. The growl in his voice was too rough for that. Arching his back, he scraped his tusks over Eskel's shoulder, catching them on Eskel's shoulderblades, leaving red marks on Eskel's flushed skin.

***

Everything swirled around Eskel. The scrape of Rhys' fangs on his back, hands fisting in his hair— first Rhys' guiding him while Geralt fed his cock into Eskel's mouth and then Geralt's urging Eskel to suck at him steadily. Rhys kept his hands pinned to his sides and mercilessly fucked into him.

It was all so much, so good, Eskel's whole body was hot and cold all at once, shivering with excitement. Eskel couldn't help but relax under it all, his body not under his own control any longer. Rocking in pleasure with Rhys' thrusts.

The gruff order from Rhys to come rolled right through Eskel and demanded his body obey. With a choked gurgle around Geralt's cock in his mouth Eskel's body jerked tight. Heat flooded his groin and pulled his balls up tight. Euphoria swept over Eskel and he groaned around Geralt's cock as he came into the sheets below him.

***

Geralt kept his hands gentle in Eskel's hair, petting it back and away from his eyes. Gods, the look of surrender on Eskel's face, the slow blinking struggle to look and _see_ Geralt through the ecstasy was breathtakingly beautiful. Seeing Eskel let go like this— give Rhys control— had Geralt's heart racing and his cock throbbing.

The smooth slide of Eskel's tongue on the underside of Geralt's cock did nothing to slow the churning arousal burning in his gut either. Eskel stiffened, moaning deep and guttural around Geralt's cock, the vibrations traveling up his shaft. 

Hips tilting forward of their own accord Geralt pushed his cock a little deeper and Eskel swallowed around him. The tightness sent him over the edge and into the abyss. Coming in Eskel's mouth, Geralt rocked his hips forward and Eskel worked to swallow everything, each tight squeeze of his throat pulling more pleasure from Geralt's body until he was gasping and swearing. "Oh shit, Eskel. You feel so good."

Geralt hissed at the overstimulation of Eskel licking at his softening cock, but he didn't take it away. Eskel looked far too happily dazed, tongue licking lazily at it as he panted heavily. Rhys fucked Eskel like he couldn't get enough, would never find his own release but was just on the edge of it. 

Sifting his fingers through Eskel's hair, now damp with sweat, Geralt let his head fall back against the tall headboard. Took in the sight of them, Eskel pliant and Rhys driven to passion. "Gods. The two of you are beautiful together."

***

Letting go of one of Eskel's wrists, Rhys fisted into Eskel's hair, pulling his head to the side and exposing his neck. With his fangs set against Eskel's skin, right below his ear, Eskel's pulse thrummed under his tongue and it took away the last of Rhys' control. 

He arched up with an unwilling growl, he wanted to do the _one_ thing he couldn't and bite. Instead, he closed his fist tighter, forcing Eskel to show him his face, kept him from hiding against Geralt. Not that there was fight left in Eskel, but something primal had woken in Rhys and needed to lay claim to him in some way.

Release kept slipping out of Rhys' grasp until he suddenly went still with the shock of his orgasm, setting his spine on fire and burning away all that brutal need. With a loud cry, he pressed his face into Eskel's back, thrusting forward as he spilled himself before collapsing heavily on top of Eskel.

It took a conscious act of will to unfurl his fingers from Eskel's wrist and hair. Rhys was sure there would be bruises for Eskel tomorrow, too. But he couldn't bring himself to feel bad about this.

Tipping over to the side so he was lying in front of Eskel, leaned against Geralt's thigh, Rhys gave a laugh that scratched at his dry throat. "Are you okay?" 

Eskel seemed out of it, all content and dazed, but Rhys wanted to hear it and make sure.

***

Rhys swam from Eskel's peripheral vision, landing right across from him where Rhys stared him in the face. He looked giddy and _almost_ hesitant, but Eskel was only happy to see him there. 

It took a long moment for Rhys' words to register as a question, and another for Eskel to find a word. "Very." Reaching over he wrapped an arm around Rhys and scooted himself close.

Rearranging so they both shared one of Geralt's thighs for a pillow. Eskel needed to be right up next to Rhys right now. Hear his heart beat slow down from the racing gallop and match his own to it. Stuff his face into Rhys neck and be allowed to hide while he slowly climbed back down the ladder he'd scaled.

***

With Eskel in his arms, almost crawling into him, Rhys was content to just lay there and relax. For a moment, he had been afraid that he had gone too far, lost too much control. But Eskel very clearly was happy, a bright sea green of contentment tinging the gold of his aura. 

Rhys sunk into it, wrapped the gold around himself like a blanket. A part of him pointed out that they should get cleaned up, but Rhys couldn't bring himself to care. He was warm and safe and exhausted. Moving seemed so much work. He held Eskel close, nose buried in his hair, and simply floated along.

***

With both Eskel and Rhys’ heads resting on his thighs, Geralt let his own head fall to one side, watching the two of them curl around each other. Arms and legs intertwined, Eskel burying himself in Rhys’ embrace. It was like nothing he’d ever seen in Eskel before, and it was captivating. Laying himself open to Rhys so willingly, so trustingly, and letting Rhys push him around while he followed orders was so unlike the Eskel Geralt knew it filled him with wonder.

Rhys had seemed to know exactly what to give Eskel. Precisely where to prod, how hard to push and when. To see Eskel move so freely with it, giving up all control like that was heady. Geralt would never want to be the one in control of Eskel, that thought was still terrifying. But joining in like this with Rhys guiding him along? That had been gratifying. It had allowed Geralt to please Eskel in a whole new way.

Eventually the sweat cooling on his skin gave Geralt a slight chill and he was sure his lovers felt the same. They didn’t show any signs of being willing to get up and clean up though. Geralt decided that this time, he should be the one to take care of them. 

There was some clear grumbling from his lap when he shifted the hand petting Eskel’s hair to move their heads onto the bed. Once Geralt had swung his leg over them and rolled off the bed though, they settled again. Fetching the water bowl and heating it with his fingers, Geralt wiped himself down. It took some work to get the cloth in between Rhys and Eskel, pressed together as they were and with Eskel unwilling to separate, but Geralt managed. Doing the best he could to clean away the sticky mess dying on their skin.

Laying a blanket up over the sheets where Eskel had come, Geralt shifted them to the side of the bed, and drew the comforter up over them. He crawled in behind Eskel, sandwiching him in between Rhys and himself. Throwing and arm and leg over Eskel, Geralt leaned into him, letting him know he was still there. Eskel turned his head out of Rhys’ neck for a brief second and Geralt gave him a kiss before he buried it again.

When Eskel pressed his face back into Rhys, Geralt kissed the base of Eskel’s neck, ran his hand down Rhys’ braid. Suddenly Geralt was exhausted again. The two of them were beautiful together and they were both his. Geralt drifted off peacefully with that thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT INFO  
> soft sex  
> blindfolding


	12. To Fan Your Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Rhys stepped back from the bed to admire his work. Dark red ropes held each of Eskel's wrists tied to an ankle, allowing him to move around if Rhys wanted him to but keeping him from touching himself. Right now, Eskel was kneeling and squirming a little in the rope harness Rhys had added just to see how it would look._   
> 

Rhys stepped back from the bed to admire his work. Dark red ropes held each of Eskel's wrists tied to an ankle, allowing him to move around if Rhys wanted him to but keeping him from touching himself. Right now, Eskel was kneeling and squirming a little in the rope harness Rhys had added just to see how it would look. 

Ropes criss crossing over Eskel's body and creating a pattern of diamond shapes running down Eskel's chest and stomach were a very appealing sight indeed. It made him appear helpless and vulnerable, an impression helped by the fact that Eskel had once again taken off his medallion, had even handed it to Rhys to put away. It rested in a small open box Rhys had brought for it, on a piece of cloth that muffled its vibrations.

"I like seeing you like this. The ropes suit you." The color did blend well with Eskel's tanned skin. The bedroom of the lighthouse was held in white and soft unobtrusive colors, light flooding in through the windows. In contrast Eskel looked striking: ropes, skin and hair the most vivid colors in the room, drawing the eye.

Opening a leather wrapper, Rhys took out a drawing and placed it where Eskel could easily see it, propped up on a side table he had put at the foot of the bed. He took off his shirt and joined Eskel on the bed, kneeling behind him. Both hands trailing down Eskel's arms and around to his chest, exploring the skin between the ropes, Rhys gave him a little time to look his fill.

"I want you to talk to me. Tell me what you would like to do to him. If you stop talking, I stop touching." 

Rhys had spent time on the drawing and made it detailed, and as alluring as he could. A muscled troll, forced to present himself on his knees by ropes holding his arms behind his back and tying his calves to his thighs. Ram horns curled above his ears, jutting out backwards from the sides of his head, tips pointing forward. With his head bowed, he looked up from beneath his eyelashes. Rhys had given his face a look of anticipation and slight trepidation. Between the troll's thighs, his cock stood up hard and swollen, his balls firmly tied with loops of rope.

***

Eyes riveted to the drawing, Eskel’s mind worked hard. Spinning fantasies, making Eskel think about how it would feel to touch and be touched by the troll. Everything about the drawing turned Eskel on. It was exactly what he would have done if he’d had the chance to tie up a man as handsome as that, and he could feel the ropes and muscles under his own hands as if he’d done it himself.

Gripping his own ankles hard, Eskel squirmed. The rope ran around the sides of his balls and between his legs, nestling right up against his most private places and making it exceedingly hard to concentrate on Rhys’ request. _Talk_. It sounded so easy, but it was hard to separate what Eskel wanted to do to the man in the picture from what he wanted the man in the picture to do to _for_ him. Just to please himself.

In the end Eskel decided it didn’t matter, that both would count for Rhys. “Want to touch him, run my hand up his shoulder, around his ear, along his horn. Open his mouth with my other hand an’ put my cock in it.”

Eskel shifted in his ropes at the thought of his cock getting sucked by such a strong man held low. “I’d hold the base of his horns,” swallowing just at the thought of such a chance Eskel was breathing heavily, “use them to help him take me deeper.” Eskel tried to lean back into Rhys, seeking contact.

***

Rhys grinned to himself behind Eskel's back. This was going even better than he had hoped, Eskel was already sweating, and audibly had to concentrate to string his words together.

He plucked at the ropes, let the vibrations travel through them. Eskel gave a soft moan when Rhys' hand reached the ropes traveling between his legs. Using the back of one finger, Rhys caressed over Eskel's cock and grinned wider at how hard it already was. 

With his chin resting on Eskel's shoulder, Rhys gave a tender bite to his ear. He nestled closer into Eskel, took some of his weight. 

"Keep talking." Rhys kept his voice low, speaking right next to Eskel's ear. Eskel had fallen silent, falling deeper into his fantasy, and Rhys took his hands off of him.

***

Concentration failing him, Eskel whined. He wanted Rhys’ hands back, and in a more satisfying way. “I-” Eskel thought about freeing the troll’s hands. Telling him to touch Eskel the way he wished Rhys would right now. He would never really do that though, he didn’t like ordering someone to pleasure him. That was cheating. Demanding things without earning them. “-I want-” Eskel stopped and started again. “-I would push m’self into his throat. Let m’self enjoy it for a bit.”

“An’ I’d stop. Kneel in front of ‘im. Get close enough to feel his skin on mine. Touch his balls. I want to hear him whimper. It will hurt, tied up like that. I want him to jerk against me, make noise.” Eskel had tied Geralt or Rhys up like that countless times and he knew he was right, anyone would make noise, jump and shift when their balls were fondled when tied like that. He loved it. Even more when he unbound them and could suck on them, both soothing and causing pain. 

“I’d tell ‘im he was so good for me. Tell him how amazing he looked. Ask him if he wanted me to untie his balls.” What Eskel wanted more than anything was for Rhys to stop teasing him. To stop shifting the rope between the cheeks of his ass where it rubbed over his tender hole distractingly and replace it with his finger. Even if he wouldn’t push it inside. Just the warmth of it against his sensitive rim would be a relief so welcome Eskel felt like he might cry.

***

Rhys had started touching and teasing Eskel as soon as he had started speaking again. The squirming and shifting under his hands told him this was getting to Eskel. It was getting to Rhys, too.

Enough so that he slid his hands down to Eskel's balls to cup them, trailed his fingers up his cock so he could stroke him slowly but firmly. Eskel jerked in his arms, biting back a loud moan at the touch. Rhys squeezed some lube on his fingers from the tube he had brought to the bed and took Eskel in hand again.

"I'm sure he will want you to. No matter that he knows it's going to hurt even more. And no matter that he knows you will hurt him more. He wants to give that to you." Rhys kept one hand splayed on Eskel's stomach, tugging on the ropes at an irregular rhythm. In his other hand, Eskel's cock was hot and rock hard, sending shivers over Eskel's body with every touch to the tip.

***

Panting through his nose at the first few strokes Eskel knew he needed to open his mouth to speak or it would stop. Yet opening his mouth risked letting all the noises he was holding in tumble out. He couldn't let it stop though. Rhys was touching him so perfectly. Slow strokes with firm pressure, Rhys had wrapped his fingers all the way around him, gripping him. But it wasn't overly tight, and every slow drag to the tip of his cock made Eskel's balls ache to spill. 

_Open your mouth. Speak._ Eskel thought to himself. Finally, he pried his own mouth apart again and sucked in a lungful of air. "I tip him over on his side. Push two slick fingers in his ass an' take the ropes off his balls. It makes him clench on my fingers, but not as hard as when I suck one of his balls into my mouth."

Eskel paused. Breathing hard and trying to push his cock through Rhys' fist. He took a minute to imagine himself pressing into the trolls ass and groaned loudly. "I wanna fuck him." The need was visceral and sudden and swept over Eskel in a shudder. "Wanna put a hand on his horns an' a hand on his hip an' jus' take him. Make him _mine_. Oh fuck. Rhys please, I need to come."

Now. Eskel needed to come, now. It was already starting. The cold wash spreading down his thighs and his balls pulled up tight between the ropes that held him. His nipples pebbled into hard nubs that suddenly ached. Eskel didn't think he could stop it. If Rhys denied him permission, he was going to be in trouble. He'd gone too far.

***

Rhys pulled Eskel closer. In his arms, Eskel was tense and it wasn't purely from being on the knife edge of orgasm. But Rhys had no intention of denying him.

"I want you to. Come for me." He didn't speed his strokes, but he moved his free hand to pinch at Eskel's nipples. Not painfully hard, just pulling them gently away from his body and letting go again.

Eskel jerked hard against him, arching his back into Rhys and thrusting his hips forward. He cried out, pushing his face into Rhys' neck. Hot cum spurted into Rhys' hand and he stroked Eskel right through his orgasm, slicking his shaft up with his cum. When Eskel slumped down, Rhys pushed two fingers into his mouth, giving him a taste.

***

Struggling to breath for a second as his orgasm barreled through him Eskel gave in and cried out. Rhys held him tight, pace unrelentingly slow and steady over his cock, working him right through it until he was shuddering and his body gave way sinking against Rhys without his permission. Fingers entered Eskel’s mouth and he sucked on them greedily.

The salt and musk of his own cum overwhelmed his senses and Eskel floated, trapped in his fantasy for a moment. Imagining himself sucking the troll clean after he’d fucked him. The faint smell of Rhys, cardamom and smoke, invaded his nose slowly with each hard pull of air Eskel took. Face pressed up against Rhys neck Eskel started to come back. The fantasy faded away and reality set in.

Moaning softly around Rhys’ fingers Eskel licked them clean, but didn’t let them fall from his mouth. The simple taste of Rhys’ skin was calming.

Eventually he had to let them go. Eskel nudged his face against Rhys’ neck. Satisfied and soft, he let out a hot breath against the skin there, giving it a gentle kiss. “Thank you.”

***

Rhys gave a soft laugh. "I'm glad to see you enjoyed yourself. Because once I have you cleaned up again, I plan to have my way with you."

He smoothed Eskel's hair down and slowly disentangled himself, leaving Eskel still kneeling on the bed. There was a bowl on the dresser with water that had been hot and was now pleasantly warm and Rhys cleaned himself quickly before coming back to take care of Eskel. Wiping away the cum on his stomach and cock, Rhys kissed Eskel when he was finished. 

The drawing went into the leather wrapping, and Rhys climbed up on the bed behind Eskel. He curled his hand in the ropes on Eskel's back and gave a firm tug, catching Eskel when he fell over.

With Eskel flat on his back, Rhys moved around to sit between his open legs. Palms running over Eskel's thighs, up and down, barely touching, Rhys smiled down at him. Let his fangs show on purpose. "I'm going to enjoy this."

He bent down to give a tender bite to Eskel's nipples, his fingers still ghosting over Eskel's thigh.

***

Eskel’s heartbeat picked up at the predatory grin on Rhys’ face. The way he stalked up between Eskel’s legs setting his mind on edge with anticipation. The air punched out of Eskel’s lungs when Rhys set his teeth around his nipple. His whole body was still sensitive from his orgasm and Rhys’ hand on the inside of his thigh sent warm threads of pleasure to his groin. 

The persistent tug of Rhys’ teeth tried to pull him from his sleepy haze and the soft sweep of Rhys’ fingers over the hairs on his thigh threatened to pull him deeper into it. Slowly Eskel lifted his hips and let them drop back down to the bed. He was torn between the two pleasures, unsure what he wanted.

With his hands tied to his ankles still Eskel couldn’t do much but try to rock his hips into the air where Rhys crouched above him. There was no relief there though. No friction for his cock, nothing to roll into. Quiet whines slipped past Eskel’s lips unintentionally.

Rhys’ thumb pressed into Eskel’s thigh, strumming over the tendon that jutted out where his thigh met his groin and Eskel choked on his breath. “Please-” The word had barely left Eskel’s mouth before Rhys’ mouth had traveled across his chest. Teeth grasping with just the right amount of pressure, Rhys pulled at Eskel’s other nipple and Eskel blinked, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

Chest arching up to follow Rhys’ mouth Eskel groaned loudly. “-Rhys, please. I can’t. I don’ deserve-” Gasping as Rhys’ fingers danced up and down both thighs, his mouth burning a trail down Eskel’s abdomen, Eskel squirmed. It was all too good.

Eskel’s cock twitched, filling between his legs. And his body hummed under Rhys’ talented hands and mouth. Eskel _wanted_.

He wanted to feel good. To take what Rhys was giving him. To let it happen and have the pleasure wash over him. Rhys told him he didn’t have to earn things from him. The first touch of Rhys’ lips to his thigh was soft, and it jarred Eskel from his guilt. It was too good. Too good to give up.

“Don’-” Eskel swallowed to wet his throat. He’d been panting and hadn't even realized it. “-please don’ stop. Feels good an’ I want it.” Turning his head to hide his face in the pillow Eskel hoped the shame at such an admission didn’t show.

***

Reaching up, Rhys cupped Eskel's face in his hand, fingertip caressing him. "I won't stop." He saw Eskel hiding and let him, but moved to place a kiss on his jaw, right under his ear. "You deserve this, and you will never need to earn anything from me. Just let me take care of you."

Returning his attention to Eskel's thighs again, Rhys kissed and nibbled at them, moving as slowly as he could from the knee down one thigh and up the other. Eskel was shaking under him, heaving huge breaths. He strained against the ropes and Rhys knew he would have hidden his face under his arm if he could. Tied as he was, Eskel was reduced to clutching at his own ankles and pressing his face into the pillow.

Rhys came to sit by Eskel's side, trailing his hand over Eskel's cock, swirling a fingertip over the tip. When he pushed it into Eskel's mouth, Eskel eagerly licked and sucked on it. Gently fucking into Eskel's mouth with two fingers, Rhys gave a few strokes to Eskel's cock to hear him moan.

The loss of Rhys' fingers from his mouth drew a needy whine from Eskel that turned into a surprised gasp when Rhys turned him over. Taking hold of the ropes, Rhys pulled Eskel into a kneeling position again, head down and ass up, with a cushion propping his shoulders and head up so he could breath more easily and turn his face away it he wanted to. Tied like this, it was easy to move Eskel around at will and it sent a thrill through Rhys.

He got off the bed to take off his pants as quickly as he could and then returned to his place behind Eskel. With both palms pressed to the insides of Eskel's thighs, he made him spread his legs further apart. Undoing the knot, Rhys tied the ropes that ran around Eskel's cock and between his ass cheeks to his thighs. He gave a pleased hum at the sight and leaned forward to lick over Eskel's hole. One hand fondling Eskel's balls, he kept at it, licking, nibbling and dipping his tongue inside.

***

Hearing Rhys say that he believed Eskel deserved this made his shame a bit easier to bear. Eskel believed that Rhys believed that, even if he didn't feel it was true himself. 

With every kiss and nibble and caress over his sensitive skin tears rolled quietly from Eskel's eyes. He closed them and shoved his face into the pillow, doing his best to hide from the onslaught. The sweet pleasure rolled over him regardless. There was no stopping it.

Never enough to bring Eskel off, but enough to make his aching cock leak. Rhys came to his side, touched the head of his cock and pushed fingers in his mouth. And Eskel _had_ to taste it. Needed to lick and suck those fingers clean.

Without a second though he swirled his tongue around them and was rewarded with them darting in and out like a cock. It left him moaning and wanting more. Suddenly Eskel was moving and his eyes shot open.

Rhys had grabbed his ropes and was simply _moving_ him. Using his strength and the ropes to draw Eskel up to his knees, turn him over, and push his face down, chest over some pillows. Eskel shuddered. Ass left in the air and hands still tied, there was nothing he could do to guard himself.

He was totally exposed and helpless to stop Rhys from looking or touching. His ass completely on display. Eskel sensed the bed jostle and heard Rhys move off it and return. Gentle hands urged his thighs further apart making Eskel whine but he easily complied.

So open, Eskel knew Rhys was looking at his ass. At his hole. And it shook him that he couldn't just turn himself away from it, hide his body. The unexpected searing heat of Rhys mouth, his tongue flicking over Eskel's entrance was a shock. Eskel cried out loud, abashed and broken in the middle, when Rhys tongue came back.

Eskel pulled his heels against his ass, deepening the bend in his back and writhing in his ropes. Gripped his own ankles _hard_. He'd never expected this and it was so fucking good. Openly sobbing, Eskel let himself go, let his body rock and bow with the emotion and need rolling through it.

Rhys' tongue slipped inside his ass and Eskel let out a cracking noise, breath heaving. "Please…" Rhys controlled his body and Eskel gave in. "Please… whatever you want."

***

Hearing Eskel's sobs, Rhys knew that he had him where he wanted him. He sat back and reached for the lube, spreading it on his fingers. A slight touch to his hole made Eskel wince and gasp, and Rhys pushed in.

He took his time with it. Not because Eskel really needed it, but because he wanted to draw this out. Rhys wanted to _watch_ and have Eskel know that he could, that there was no way for Eskel to hide. 

"You look amazing. And you're being so good, taking what I give you." Rhys pressed his fingers into Eskel up the the knuckles of his hand, pushed firmly enough to make Eskel sway forward. When he drew back, he curled the fingers of his other hand around Eskel's cock and let it slip through them. Pressed in again, and rocked Eskel between the hand on his cock and the fingers in his ass.

"You should see yourself. You're so eager for me." Suddenly Rhys couldn't wait any longer. He knelt behind Eskel, slicking himself up with a few strokes and set his cock against Eskel's hole.

"Lean into me. Fuck yourself on my cock." With one hand holding his shaft and one on Eskel's hip to keep him steady, Rhys bit down on his lip to keep still and not just push in.

***

“Yes.” The word was barely breathed out but Eskel’s body followed Rhys’ orders automatically. Seeking what it wanted on its own without his permission. After all it had Rhys’ and that was all it needed at the moment.

Breath rolling loosely in and out of him, Eskel relaxed his back. It pushed his ass against Rhys’ cock and a low moan spilled out of him. It was slow and left Eskel unsatisfied at first. He wanted Rhys to fuck him. Take him. Make him endure the pleasure of it. The realization that Rhys was forcing him to take control of his own pleasure dawned on Eskel and his skin prickled at the idea.

Eskel groaned right through that first blissful stretch, his body accepting Rhys, slick and firm inside of himself. Arching his back and letting the barest push of Rhys’ hand guide his rhythm, Eskel fucked himself just as Rhys had demanded. Short thrusts that left him aching for more. There wasn’t enough leverage for Eskel to take Rhys all the way, to feel him plunge in deeply and then almost slip out like he wanted.

“Melitele, more please.” Eskel was stuck. He wanted more, wanted Rhys to fuck him. “Help me. Help me be good for you. Give me-” Trying hard to push back Eskel sobbed, buried his face in the sheets and bit them for a moment before turning his head to the side. Breath rough and jagged, heartbeat loud in his own ears. “-more. Help me take it.”

***

Very slowly and carefully, Rhys leaned forward, pushed himself into Eskel. He let his hands slide along Eskel's back, ending up draped over him with both hands buried in his hair. The ropes pressed into Rhys' skin, rubbing against it with Eskel's heavy breaths.

"You can have all you want." Rhys sat back again, up on his knees, hips right up to Eskel's ass. Holding Eskel's waist, Rhys let himself almost slip out before entering him again. Eskel gave a helpless cry and pushed back against Rhys. Breathing hard, Rhys tried to keep this rhythm for as long as he could. 

Eskel had given up control to him, and Rhys was ravenous for more. More control, more ways to ask for it, more ways for Eskel to offer it up. Grabbing Eskel harder, Rhys fucked into him in shorter, faster thrusts. One hand reached around to squeeze Eskel's cock, running fingertips over the wet, swollen head. Rhys leaned forward again and pushed his fingers into Eskel's mouth.

***

The touch of Rhys' fingers to the head of Eskel's cock was almost too much. Hips jittering at the sensation, Eskel's strangled moan was cut off by Rhys' fingers pushing in between his lips. Sucking at them and breathing deeply Eskel settled.

Rhys' cock in his ass was everything Eskel needed right now. Opening him up and drawing back before plunging in again. Hot and hard. Hitting that place inside that built the ache behind his balls higher. Eskel's own cock hung heavy and thick between his legs, bobbing with every thrust.

Rocking with Rhys, Eskel tried to keep a rhythm. It was maddening. With no friction for his cock the pleasure would go on forever, as long as Rhys lasted. The frustration of that thought finally overwhelmed Eskel. "Jus' take me, please!"

***

Rhys didn't need to be told twice. One hand splayed on Eskel's back, he pushed him down. Speeding up, Rhys sought his relief. He watched Eskel's face, relishing the pleasure and open need he saw there.

With a growl, he grabbed the ropes on Eskel's back and pulled, forcing him to raise his upper body. Eskel was helpless in his grasp, only held by the rope corset. The rough gasps every thrust forced out Eskel burned away every last bit of restraint Rhys had and he picked up the pace even more.

It only took a few seconds more before Rhys came with a shout and one last hard thrust, sheathing himself in Eskel. Gulping down air, it was all he could do to let Eskel down carefully before slumping over him, arms wrapped around his waist.

Rhys sat back on his heels, still riding out the aftershocks of his orgasm. Hands to Eskel's hips, Rhys toppled him and flipped him over on his back. He took a moment to look his fill - hard cock twitching with every breath he took, cum leaking out of his ass and sweat-damp hair plastered to his forehead, Eskel looked amazing. Rhys licked precum off of the head of Eskel's cock, making him arch up with a cry. Spreading some lube, Rhys stroked Eskel the way he liked it, slow and firm, using his fingers instead of a fist.

"I want to see you come. Look at me." Rhys made it an order, not a request.

***

Groaning sluggishly, the world danced around Eskel. The room was bright and he blinked slowly, his eyes tightening to adjust. "Oh fuuuck." Eskel almost giggled at himself, he sounded like he'd taken one too many shots of Usquebaugh and felt nearly the same.

Thighs quivering, Eskel forced himself to look at Rhys. He wanted to hide but Rhys wanted to _see_ , demanded it and Eskel couldn't deny him that. Even as he felt Rhys' cum trickling out of his ass and a grunt died in his lungs. The perfect firmness of Rhys fingers on his cock spurred Eskel on.

He wanted to come. Needed to come. And if he looked away he was sure Rhys would stop. Locking eyes with Rhys, Eskel's mouth gaped open. Talented fingers stripping his cock, thumb pressing into the tender vein along the underside.

One last smooth stroke pulled it right out of Eskel and he came with an unexpectedly loud shout. Eyes never leaving Rhys'. Head lifting off the bed, flopping back down.

***

Bending over Eskel, Rhys placed a kiss to his jaw. "Thank you. That was beautiful." He pressed his forehead against Eskel's temple, let him catch his breath for a bit while petting him softly.

Fetching the bowl of water, he set to work cleaning first himself and then Eskel, untying his wrists and the rope harness and wiping cum and lube off of him. Eskel let himself be moved around, limbs flopping on the mattress. 

When Rhys was done, he crawled into bed next to Eskel, pulled the blanket over them and Eskel into an embrace. Rhys was riding the high from this scene. It had worked exactly how he had imagined and had hit every single one of Eskel's weak points. 

"You did so well for me, I loved this. It was perfect." He nuzzled into Eskel's neck. "Can I get you something to drink? Some food?"

***

Reaching one arm around behind Rhys’ head to hold Rhys’s face against his neck, Eskel groaned faintly. His arms felt like putty. Staring over Rhy’s head at the bright whites and pale colors of the room Eskel blinked, trying to process Rhys’s words.

Had he really done good? Eskel felt like he hadn’t done much at all except said that he wanted some things out loud that under any other circumstance he would never have admitted to. Now that he was thinking about it, he wasn’t sure how he felt about that either. Something told him to be uncomfortable, but that was hard to do with Rhys holding him. Plus, what he’d said wasn’t untrue. Eskel had wanted those things from Rhys at that moment.

Pressing his nose into Rhys’ hair Eskel took a deep breath. Held the scent of Rhys in his lungs for a long moment to try and calm the confusion swirling in his mind. Every muscle in his arms, his legs, even his abdomen trembled in a way that told Eskel he’d held tension in them too long. “Juice? ‘M thirsty an’ I jus’ feel kinda worn out.”

When Rhys gave him a kiss, moving off the bed to fetch him some juice as requested, Eskel scooted up, taking the blanket with him. Wrapped it around himself like a Quen against the jumble in his mind. Stuffing a pillow between his back and the metal frame Eskel leaned back, waiting for Rhys to come back to the bed.

***

Rhys had decided on cherry juice and brought some fresh peaches along, just in case. Coming up the stairs, he grabbed the medallion from the dresser, too. He put everything down and knelt on the bed, slipping the medallion's chain over Eskel's head again and placing a kiss on his hair.

Wriggling into the blanket with him, Rhys hugged him and passed him a glass of juice. For a moment, Rhys slipped into astral sense, to get a better idea of what was going on with Eskel. It was clear that _something_ was up, and Rhys wanted to know if they were heading for a drop. 

Eskel's aura gave him no more answer than shaking an magic eightball would have: unsure, ask again later. There was so much uncertainty and confusion that Rhys guessed not even Eskel himself knew where this would go. 

With the empty glass safely on the nightstand, Rhys pulled Eskel into his lap until he was sitting chest to back with him, his arms wrapped around Eskel's waist. 

"I asked a lot of you, and you gave me everything. Thank you for that." With his nose buried against Eskel's neck, Rhys breathed in his scent. "How do you feel?"

***

Turning his head to Rhys, Eskel stole a kiss, languid and deep. Wrapping his arms around Rhys’ circling his own waist, Eskel hugged Rhys while hugging himself and rested the side of his forehead on Rhys’ jaw. “I liked it all. No, I _loved_ it. I jus’...” Shrugging one shoulder Eskel paused to find the right words to explain his confusion, “...I don’ know. It’s hard to explain. I feel like ‘m weak or that I should be ashamed of sayin’ some of those things that I said?”

“Right then, it felt so _good_ to ask for more, or to let you demand to see me that way. But now that it’s over I feel weird. That’s all.” Eskel sighed. He was tired, exhausted actually. “It’ll pass, I think. It feels better when you hold me. I jus’ wanna curl up with you for a long time right now. Can we do that?”

***

"Sure. It'll help it all settle. Come here, then." Rhys slid down, taking the blanket with him and held it up for Eskel to join him. Arms around Eskel, Rhys lasted only a couple of minutes longer awake than he did.

A long nap and a quick shower later, they had had a light lunch, doors opened to the sound of the waves and the smell of the sea. They had both been a little restless and had decided to go stretch their legs, take a walk on the beach.

Rhys picked up a sea shell and washed it clean in the surf, admired its delicate texture and creamy colors. He pocketed it and took Eskel's hand again, giving it a squeeze. "Do you feel better? Should we talk about this, what do you think?"

***

Up the beach and away from the surf, Eskel drew Rhys by his hand. When they were a safe distance from the creeping waves he plopped his ass down in the sand. Tugged on Rhys' hand to get him to follow. Eskel didn't think he could talk about this and walk at the same time.

"I feel the same as I did before? I don't feel awful. Jus'..." Eskel lifted a shoulder in question. "I _loved_ it all, it felt so good, an' at that moment I was happy to ask for those things— mostly. But now, when 's over I cringe at some of the things I said."

Eskel thought briefly, gave Rhys' hand a squeeze and then dropped it in favor of wrapping his arms entirely around Rhys instead. Laying his jaw on top of Rhys' shoulder Eskel's words were muffled and muddy. "-mean I think those things in my head but their not meant to be said out loud."

***

"I think it's normal to a degree to feel like that? Everyone cringes at what lust brain made them say from time to time. And I think if you do heavy scenes, it's not a bad idea to look at what you're doing sometimes. To make sure you're still aware of everything that's going on in the scene." Rhys pulled Eskel to himself, one hand on his back drawing soothing circles.

"That said, I don't think there's any reason why you should be ashamed. I like hearing you say these things, and I like giving you what you ask for. I want this from you. And you don't need to do anything to deserve this. It's not a _reward_." The wind carried some spray with it and Rhys tasted the salt on his lips and on Eskel's skin when he placed a kiss on Eskel's forehead.

***

Chewing on Rhys’ words Eskel sat in silence for quite some time. He didn’t want Rhys to think he hadn’t listened or wasn’t thinking about it so he made a point to lean into Rhys, kiss his temple back. “I like what you give me, an’ I love that I can trust you to give it to me, an’ not expect somethin’ in return, or I don’ know— hold it over me?”

Rhys always told Eskel he didn’t need to earn these pleasures but that was such a hard belief to break. The way he put it this time though… Eskel had always viewed it as some sort of a reward, even if it was just for being a good partner. If it wasn’t a reward though and Rhys enjoyed giving it to him. Then what was it? “You tell me I don’ hafta earn it an’ I try an believe that. If ‘s not a reward you’re givin’ me then what is it, a gift?” 

Gifts should be treasured and accepted without argument as long as they were given in good faith. A gift was rare, and a gift given to someone like a witcher even rarer. There was also the reassurance that Rhys _wanted_ this from Eskel, wanted to hear those desperate pleas and Eskel asking for what he wanted. It wasn’t something Rhys was saying while they were naked and half lost with lust, but fully dressed and sober.

All of it combined to give Eskel the impulse to truly believe Rhys’ words this time. That Rhys enjoyed seeing him like that, giving him that, as much as he enjoyed the warmth of being wrapped in Rhys’ possessive love for the moment.

***

Rhys had _seen_ the pieces falling into place for Eskel. Finally. They had talked about this before, over and over again and Eskel tried to believe it but never really had been able to. But now they seemed to have found the right way of putting it.

"Yes. It's a gift. It's freely given and yours to accept or refuse, but there is no price to it." Rhys turned and put one leg behind Eskel, curled the other under himself so he could hug Eskel from the side. 

""It makes me proud that you feel you can ask me for what you want, that you trust me with this. That's also a gift." With his face pressed to Eskel's neck, Rhys smiled against his skin.

***

"I'd never wanna refuse your gifts. They make me feel too good." Curling into Rhys, Eskel gave a genuine smile. "'S like you reach inside an' let out a warm breath on my soul. An' it was cold before, I jus' didn't know it."

"The world used me up an' left me, but you, you give me somethin' back. Make me feel whole again, so I can go back out." Kissing Rhys' neck Eskel paused, rubbed his nose there breathing in the scent of Rhys' spices and the salty sea.

"I love you. I love that you push me. Ask me to take what I want to feel whole." Resting against Rhys, the soft sound of the waves and the screams of the gulls took Eskel away and he drifted happily. Content to be held on the beach.

***

Dusk found them on the couch, with a couple of logs burning in the fireplace. There was a chill in the air, announcing that autumn was right around the corner. Outside, a few gulls circled, black in front of the deep purples and red the sun painted on the clouds as it sunk beneath the horizon.

Rhys sunk deeper into the couch cushions, cradling a mug of cocoa on his stomach. He and Eskel were sitting at opposite sides of the couch, legs stretched out between them and a blanket on top. They had been listening to music - Eskel had discovered that Rhys had access to a vast library from his commlink and was dipping his toes into exploring the musical history of this world.

Trapping his finger in the book he had been reading, Rhys nudged Eskel with a toe to get his attention. "I would like to ask you something. You can tell me if you'd rather not talk about it, but I think it will be easier now that we have figured out the whole asking for things."

"And I love that we have figured it out, I'm proud of that." He smiled at Eskel, put the book aside. "When we had the last threesome with Geralt, you asked _me_ for permission to have his cock. You didn't ask him. Was that just because I was the one most in control, or is there another reason?"

***

Pausing Tennessee Flat Top Box— the song Eskel was currently engrossed in— he looked up at Rhys. He’d just discovered Johnny Cash, who apparently was long dead, but Eskel was enjoying his music quite a lot.

After a moment of thought Eskel switched Rhys’ comm to play a channel of random piano music. Something soothing that he would be able to listen to in the background but still focus on Rhys. Without words to pull his attention away.

“You didn’t tell me I had to ask him?” Eskel cocked his head to the side, he was evading for a moment while he thought how best to explain this without Rhys thinking Geralt denied him everything all the time. That wasn’t a fair view.

“You told me I _had_ to ask. Which… was hard for me. But I wanted it so bad an’ ‘m more comfortable askin’ you than Geralt. So I obeyed, I asked— you.” Setting Rhys’ comm on the coffee table Eskel crossed his arms over his stomach.

Tipping his head back he closed his eyes and focused on breathing— deeply, slowly, and methodically. “I don’ like to ask for things from him ‘cause I have this idea or feeling or whatever you wanna call it that he tells me no a lot. ‘M not sayin’ he really does. ‘S jus’ how I feel an’ ‘s an impossible feeling to break. ‘M sure ‘s ‘cause there were always some things I couldn’t ask him for.”

“So no, I don’ like to ask him for things. I don’t wanna hear no. It’s hard enough to ask in the first place, hearing that would…” Eskel shrugged, he didn’t know what it would do to him honestly but he was sure it wouldn’t be good. Sure it would hurt beyond belief.

***

Rhys gave this some thought while he drank the last of his cocoa, licking a sweet mustache off his lip. This was complicated, and entangled in a lot of different things.

"You two have wildly different tastes in some regards, that must have come up. I'm sure you told him no more than once as well. Or you negotiated and settled on something." 

"I can understand why you don't want to ask, why you're afraid of being told no. But I get the impression that you are guarding yourself a little too carefully maybe? Do you really think Geralt would have said no to you giving him a blowjob, or did you not ask more out of habit?" Pushing his hand under the blanket, Rhys ran a palm up and down Eskel's calf.

***

“D’you remember when I asked you not to hurt me?” Eskel waited for a clear nod from Rhys before he continued. “‘S like that. I don’ really think Geralt would turn down me suckin’ his cock. But in that moment ‘m so open an’ defenseless that if he _did_ , it would break me. Hurt me in ways I can’t even imagine.”

Eskel scooted down, sinking further into the couch hugging himself. Staring off at the wall. “Maybe it is a habit. But ‘s a habit I’ve formed to keep from hatin’ myself the way Geralt does sometimes. Every time I’ve had to say no, gentle as I am, I can’t help but think it reinforces his thinking that what he wanted wasn’t alright. No matter how much I say that isn’t it.”

“If he tells me no when ‘m like that, I might never ask for anythin’ again. ‘M not sure if I _could_ after hearing that, as hard as it is for me to ask for somethin’ in the first place. Then where would I be? I’d feel even colder than I did before ‘cause then I would know I didn’t even have the option left.” Eskel sighed and closed his eyes. This gave him a headache.

***

"I don't get the impression that Geralt ever took any of your refusals that way. He understands your reasons for saying no. And correct me if I am wrong, but he does keep asking for things he wants to try, doesn't he? So I think you may be projecting there. Believing Geralt feels like you do." Rhys moved to sit in the middle of the couch, pulling Eskel's legs in his lap and petting him.

"And with me, you ask for things you know very well you will get. Maybe not right away, but they're things I won't deny you. I'm not suggestion you go and ask either of us for something completely wild, that we never discussed before. And I _know_ how hard this is, don't think I don't. But why is it different asking me for something you know you will get, and asking Geralt?" Reaching out, Rhys brushed a strand of hair from Eskel's forehead, cupped his face for a moment.

***

“So maybe it would’ve been alright to ask him for that. To ask if _I could give him something_ , but Geralt doesn’t enjoy giving things to me the way you do. At least not as often. Once in a rare while, sure. He will approach me an’ offer to please me, jus’ for my own enjoyment, but he has other ways of takin’ care of me.” Eskel’s hand found Rhys’ around his hip and intertwined their fingers. He gave it a squeeze.

“Geralt might clean my swords, or put a treat in the bottom of my saddlebags. Bring me a hot drink in the morning. Those kinds of things, not so much sexual things? Tha’s how he likes to please me. Don’t get me wrong. Sometimes he will when the mood strikes him but ‘s not like I could just order him to lick me, or suck me, or worship my chest. He likes bein’ bossed around but I wouldn’t want to take advantage of that to get what I want.” Grabbing the back of the couch Eskel sat himself up in Rhys’ lap and wrapped his arms around Rhys’ neck.

“‘Sides that’s not asking, that’s demanding.” Snuggling into the closeness of Rhys’ body Eskel started to relax. It was alright to talk about this with Rhys, he never judged anyway. “An’ yeah, Geralt asks me for new things all the time. Sometimes we do them, sometimes we don’. Sometimes I am pretty sure he gets them from you an’ Duncan instead, an’ that’s alright by both of us.”

***

"I don't think you need to worry about feeding into Geralt's self-hate when you tell him no. And yes, he does get what he wants from Duncan and me, very probably. It's why we work so well together, all of us. I don't think there are many couples who are one hundred percent compatible. Duncan and I aren't, and Geralt and I for sure are not. But we find the things that work." Rhys picked his way through Eskel's words, thinking them over before speaking so he got this right.

"Geralt enjoys giving you things plenty. I'd say he just doesn't like being in _control_ of this. And I would disagree that it would be taking advantage of making him do things for you when you play. Not if you talked about it before and agreed on doing it this way. If you frame it right, Geralt will get a lot out of this, and I think so would you." 

"Would you like to experiment with this? We can make it a part of our next threesome. I'd make you ask one thing from Geralt, just one. But if we do, I think we should talk to him first." Shifting over to the corner of the couch, Rhys leaned into it and embraced Eskel firmly. Telling him with his body that he was safe here.

***

Eskel allowed himself to be comforted by Rhys’ hold. “Yeah, I would like you to push this with me. I was bein’ honest when I said that I love that you push me, I think you help me be better. With some of the emotions that were trained outta us. But slow, only one thing.”

Letting himself imagine it happening, Eskel felt hot all over. “As much as hearing no scares me, hearing yes from Geralt in that moment would be _amazing_. An’ I’ve never heard it ‘cause ‘m too afraid to ask.”

“You can make me ask for one thing.” Eskel held his hand up with his thumb and forefinger close together in an indication of exactly how small of a thing it should be. “Can we go back to my Johnny Cash now?”

Reaching over him, Rhys fiddled with his comlink until the soft piano notes changed back to Johnny’s baritone. This time though Eskel thought he sounded older, and the song was slow, the lyrics of a broken man past his time. He listened in silence to the end anyway. It was an incredibly moving song, and Eskel found it resonated with him. Everyone he knew did go away in the end. 

He outlived them all, save Geralt and Lambert. He didn’t say a word about that out loud though. Instead he only commented, “That must’ve been near the end of his life, sounded a lot different than the others.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Info:  
> rope bondage  
> sub!Eskel  
> horn kink  
> kink negotiation


	13. One Moment of Your Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"I'd say go easy on him, but nobody wants that." Duncan gave a quiet laugh and Rhys leaned into him for a moment before pushing the door open. He walked around Geralt, saying nothing. Duncan could see the wish to squirm and wiggle built in Geralt but he grabbed his own wrists and managed to hold still._  
>  Hard play, and lots of fluff.

Duncan put the last touches to his preparations: a chain going in a loop over one of the beams under the ceiling of the Ruby Room, hanging low enough that he would be able to shackle Geralt to it with his arms above his head. He stepped back and looked around to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. A flask of oil, a cane, water, pieces of cloth, something to eat and drink, handcuffs - everything arranged on the table, with the cane most prominently.

With a pleased nod to himself, Duncan went to get Geralt from the other room. The second they stepped through the door, Duncan went to grab Geralt's upper arm, steering him forcefully to the foot of the bed. 

"Take off your clothes." Duncan pulled out a chair for himself, sitting in front of the table so he had a good view, and Geralt had a view of the cane whenever he looked at Duncan. Watching Geralt hurry to obey him and get naked, Duncan fought the urge to grin. He was looking forward to this, had been for a while. 

With Geralt naked, his clothes folded and placed on the chest at the foot of the bed, and his head bowed, Duncan gave another pleased nod. He pushed himself up from his chair and walked over to Geralt, standing close in front of him.

"I plan to test you today. And I'm sure you will not disappoint me. I'll allow someone else to hurt you, however he wants. And you will take it. I don't care if he makes you cry, or scream, you will take what he gives you." Palming Geralt's cock, Duncan gave it a squeeze. Grabbed the back of Geralt's neck at the same time, pulling him even closer.

"I won't leave you alone with him. I want to see this, and I'll reward you with pleasure. I told him that you will come for me, no matter how bad the pain is. Don't make me a liar." He claimed Geralt's mouth in a wild kiss, and then in a more gentle one, cupping Geralt's face gently. Asking silently if they were good to go through with this. 

Geralt gave a soft nod before bowing his head again, hands on his back. Duncan stepped back from him and turned to go. "Stay. Once I've brought the man up here, you'll obey him as you obey me."

Closing the door behind him, Duncan walked downstairs where Rhys was nursing a beer amidst the early evening crowd gathering for the first show of the cabaret. He caught Duncan's eye and got up, met him halfway with an eager grin. Duncan had to remind himself not to kiss Rhys right here, but he did it once they were on the stairs, away from everyone. 

"I'd say go easy on him, but nobody wants that." Duncan gave a quiet laugh and Rhys leaned into him for a moment before pushing the door open. He walked around Geralt, saying nothing. Duncan could see the wish to squirm and wiggle built in Geralt but he grabbed his own wrists and managed to hold still. He did flinch when Rhys groped his ass, then trailed a hand around to his cock. 

"You didn't promise too much, he _is_ spectacular. And eager, I see." Rhys gently patted Geralt's hardening cock, followed the vein on the underside with a fingertip. 

"Let me get him in position for you." Duncan picked up the handcuffs, bound Geralt's hands in front of him and moved him roughly to the middle of the room, under the chain. Using a panic snap, he shackled Geralt to the chain, pulling his arms above his head. Geralt still could stand easily, but he had no way of protecting himself.

Rhys had picked up the cane and traced it over Geralt's chest, down his stomach and between his legs. "Spread your legs."

***

Taking a step to the side with each foot in turn Geralt showed himself off to the man Duncan had brought back in the room with him. He was thinner than Duncan but he had a wicked looking smile that made Geralt think he was no stranger to hurting a person and enjoying it himself.

Rhys walked around his side, out of Geralt’s sight but not out of the range of his hearing and he became hypervigilant. Listening to every creak of the polished wood floor. The whoosh and swing of the cane in the air next to his body. Colder air buffeted his skin where the rattan displaced it nearby, and Geralt’s skin prickled, shuddering at the sensation.

Jumping at the first series of light barely there taps on his ass Geralt let out a harsh breath. These were only teases. Tap tap taps. Tiny hellos to his skin. Flexing his toes Geralt forced himself to settle onto his feet. 

To stop trying to anticipate what was next to come. It wouldn’t stop it anyway. A solid horizontal tap touched down across the top of his ass, the cane staying there to let him feel the connection of it for a moment before rising off of it. Then with a solid thwap and a choked noise from Geralt it landed right back where it had been, hard and stinging. All pretense of gentleness gone.

Another tap below it, greeting the skin before Rhys brought the cane down searing rebuke. This time Geralt managed to only let out a rough grunt, swaying a little on his feet with the impact. He returned to his position right away though and prepared for another hit. 

By the fourth hit tears were stinging his eyes and his cock ached in a most unbearable way. How this kind of pain could make him so hard, Geralt couldn’t even begin to comprehend. When the fifth hit reverberated through the muscles in Geralt's ass he blinked, sending a tear rolling down his face.

***

Rhys counted out ten hits in his head, listening to Geralt choking back the noises the cane tore out of him. With every hit, Geralt tensed up, muscles in his arms and back shifting under the skin. When the next hit didn't come immediately, he tried to relax and Rhys made sure there was no rhythm for him to anticipate.

The lines of all ten strikes stood out in vivid red on Geralt's pale skin, creating the start of a pattern. Rhys wasn't finished, not for a long time, but he thought it was time for a break. Using only the tip of the cane, he gave a soft tap to Geralt's balls and grinned when Geralt yelped. With both hands gripping the chain so hard his knuckles turned white, Geralt stood completely still, even holding his breath. 

Walking around him, Rhys let the cane wander over Geralt's ass and hip to his cock, pushing it down and letting go. Caught its underside with the cane and pressed it against Geralt's stomach. He kept it trapped there while stepping closer to run his fingers over Geralt's balls, up his cock and around the head. 

There was precum on his fingertips when he lifted his hand and he licked it off. "I see you didn't exaggerate, he really does love this kind of pain."

***

Duncan got up from his place on the chest at the foot of the bed and joined Rhys. One hand on Rhys' ass, the other curled around the back of Geralt's neck, he gave a satisfied hum. 

"I told you. He's quite the find. It's even better when you mix in a little pleasure." Duncan moved in front of Geralt, and Rhys took the cane away. The sudden lack of pressure let Geralt's cock spring back neatly into Duncan's hand. He didn't grasp it firmly, just ghosted his fingers over it. 

Rhys had taken up position behind and to the side of Geralt again and this time, there was no gentle teasing. The first slash went right across Geralt's upper thighs, with enough force behind it to make Geralt cry out.

Closing his fingers around Geralt's cock, Duncan gave it a slow stroke in the pause between one hit and the next. "That _is_ what you like. Tell me."

***

Head hanging down Geralt watched Duncan’s hand on his cock. The pleasure stoking the fire in his gut higher. The white hot pain of the cane across his thighs did nothing to dampen it. No. It only threw alcohol on the flames, making them burn brighter, hotter, higher.

Legs shaking Geralt cried out when the next stroke landed, somewhere above the middle of his thighs. Lifting his head up Geralt looked at Duncan. “I-” Geralt gasped for breath. “-do, Sir. I like it when you hurt me and touch me. I enjoy my pain with you. Thank you.”

Geralt barely got his last words out before the cane landed again, and again. Quick successive strikes moving down his thighs. Geralt let it roll over him, a roaring waterfall of pain washing down his body. He was sure he screamed, it didn’t matter, Duncan had said he could as long as he _took_ it and came. There was no denying he was still hard in Duncan’s hand. Leaking and aching with every teasing stroke.

Geralt gave up trying to track the strikes, trying to anticipate them. It was impossible anyway, Rhys was talented at varying his hits and waiting. He went limp, not quite hanging from his cuffs, but no longer tense either. Simply taking his pain and letting it mix with the pleasure of Duncan stroking him in between. He wished Duncan wouldn’t wait, wouldn’t draw it out, would stroke him along with and through the strikes. But it wasn’t Geralt’s place to decide what they gave him.

And then it stopped again. The last line of pain just hung on his skin and no more followed. Geralt waited, wanting more— more pain and more pleasure.

***

Duncan pushed Geralt's head up with two fingers under his chin. "You alright?" When Geralt nodded, Duncan went to the nightstand and came back with a coin, pressed it into Geralt's hand. Gave him a soft kiss to go with it.

"I'm sure you can take more." Rhys had come to stand beside him and Duncan almost jumped, he hadn't heard Rhys at all.

With his cane trailing up Geralt's inner thigh, Rhys had a smile that would have made Duncan cringe if he had been in Geralt's place. Right now, it excited him to see it directed at Geralt who was watching Rhys, muscles quivering all over his body. He was covered in a slight sheen of sweat, a loose strand of hair falling into his eyes.

The cane tapped its way from one thigh to the other, against Geralt's balls and along his cock until it landed right on the head. There was no force behind its movements, but Geralt sucked down a sharp breath anyway.

"Do you want more of this? I will be careful. It will be painful but I will not hurt you. And I'm sure Duncan could find a way to give you pleasure even if your cock is otherwise occupied." Rhys stopped with the tip of the cane sitting lightly on the head of Geralt's cock.

"Or I can continue to whip your ass. But no matter what you chose, I will not stop until you have come." Rhys' smile widened until his fangs were on display.

***

The wheels in Geralt’s mind turned slowly, fingers gripping the coin tightly. It didn’t matter that the cane carried no real power behind it when it connected with his balls and cock. They were already aching and full. The simple impact of the cane sent a ripple of momentum through them, shaking Geralt’s body to its core.

Words failed him. Geralt’s jaw hung open and he panted. Groaning at the way the cane tip held his cock so gently and so dangerously Geralt thrust his hips forward. His cock slid off it and along the cane, hot and hard against the rattan.

“Please, hurt me more.” Geralt tensed his arms for just a moment trying to rub his cock along the cane, “Like this,” _Obey him as you would obey me_ rattled in Geralt’s head and he added a hasty, “Sir.”

Loosening his body and waiting Geralt squirmed the slightest bit on his feet, but he kept them spread wide for Rhys. This was going to hurt in the best worst possible way and he had no idea how to prepare for it. His body still warred with his mind that he didn’t want it but he _did_. Right now he wanted almost nothing more than to feel the cane heat up his cock and make his balls throb painfully.

***

Exchanging a look with Duncan, Rhys gave a quick not _quite_ as gentle tap to Geralt's cock. "Very well. Here's what we'll do: I'll whip your ass until Duncan is back here with that oil flask. So I can be sure it hurts when he fingers you while I torture your cock. I really hope you are sure you can come from this because I won't help you."

He didn't wait for Duncan to start moving to hit Geralt again, aiming at his ass again. Laying his strikes diagonally over the first ones, he left more angry red marks. Every few hits, he aimed for Geralt's thighs to keep him off balance and tense. 

He only stopped when Duncan came up behind him, staying carefully out of the cane's arc. For a moment, Rhys leaned into Duncan, pushed his thigh between Duncan's to hear the sudden intake of breath. Then he moved in front of Geralt again and ghosted the cane over his cock. Let it bounce on the shaft, moving up and down, avoiding both the head and Geralt's balls.

When a loud moan told him Geralt had Duncan's fingers up his ass, Rhys put a little more force into the taps and now he did hit the tip of Geralt's cock and his balls. Slowly, he let the intensity of the bouncing built up into reals hits, listened to Geralt's breathing and watched him closely to judge if it got too much.

***

Duncan hadn't been too gentle with Geralt. Fingers slick with oil, he had pushed into him with steady pressure. It had drawn out a hoarse noise from Geralt and Duncan put a hand on his hip to keep him steady. 

Watching Rhys made a shiver run over Duncan. Rhys was absorbed in Geralt's pain and the challenge of hitting him exactly hard enough, and the unguarded expression of lust was delicious. A smile curled Rhys' lips and his eyes were dark with want.

Fucking into Geralt with two fingers, Duncan buried his nose in the crook of his neck. His tusks dug into Geralt's skin, not breaking it. Yet. With every stroke Rhys placed, Geralt clenched around Duncan, moaning with pleasure and whimpering with pain. 

"I'm going to let him fuck you when we're done here. I bet that will hurt, with how your ass looks." Duncan gave it a hard squeeze, the skin hot under his palm.

***

Those words pulled a whine from Geralt and it was impossible for him to say if it was with desire or dread at the thought. His body was awash in pain and Duncan’s fingers stretching him, sliding in and out, did only a little to take it away. Just enough. Something to draw his mind away from the heat in his groin building higher and higher.

The cane struck harder, no longer only the momentum but some power to it now, the change was enough to make Geralt stiffen at first. The longer it went though the more the hits settled into his flesh and before long he was groaning with each one, and not just from the pain that came with them. It felt good each strike reverberating through his groin. 

There was no denying it also _hurt_ and Geralt already knew that tomorrow would not bring a horse ride. Every hit made his legs tense and shake as he fought the natural desire to close them. To guard himself. He wanted this though, had asked for it, and there was no way he wanted to disappoint Duncan.

Geralt could feel the prickles in his hair, down to where Duncan’s teeth and tusks rested hard against his skin. The curl of pleasure and pain squeezing tighter and tighter deep behind his balls. Rhys’ cane landed perfectly every time, on his balls, along the length of his cock, right at the sensitive head. Geralt was close, so close and he knew it. Rising up on his toes and dropping down he forced Duncan’s fingers into his ass hard, hitting his sweet spot and knocking the air out of himself.

Delirious with need Geralt babbled. “Please, Sir.” The cane struck and he gasped, tears running down his face. “I’m so close. Please.” Geralt didn’t really know what he needed. Nothing really. As long as they didn’t stop he would wash away with his orgasm.

***

Duncan wrapped one arm around Geralt's waist to keep him in place and picked up the pace. It allowed Rhys to aim carefully and he struck the tip of Geralt's cock repeatedly in a fast pattern. Geralt struggled in Duncan's grip, pulling hard on the chain. With the cane pinned under one arm, Rhys took Geralt in hand. 

Stroking the shaft with one hand and the painfully sensitive head with the other, Rhys didn't have to work hard to make Geralt come. He watched hungrily, eyes never leaving Geralt's face, as the orgasm took over Geralt body, shaking it. Rhys spread Geralt's come all over his cock, kept stroking him slow and leisurely, paying special attention to the tip.

***

With Geralt sagging in his grasp, Duncan took some of his weight, kept him upright. He pulled his fingers out of Geralt's ass, used both arms to hold him. Geralt shuddered, and when Rhys didn't stop, he writhed helplessly, giving a pitiful cry. 

Duncan let Rhys torture Geralt a while longer, caught up in Rhys' look of utter concentration and in Geralt's sobbing. Every time Geralt moved, it pressed his whipped ass into Duncan and he tensed with the pain spiking through him.

Eventually, Rhys stopped and moved close, pinning Geralt between them. He smiled at Duncan and kissed Geralt's jaw. "You're such a good whore, taking all of this. I think you deserve a break, but we are not done. I was promised your ass, and I'm going to have it. I don't care how much pain you are in."

Rhys gave them space and Duncan opened the panic snap and the handcuffs, and picked Geralt up to carry him over to the bed. Laying him down, Duncan was about to get up for a washcloth, but Rhys brought him the bowl. Discarding his clothes quickly, Rhys got into bed with them. Together, they cleaned Geralt up, caressing and kissing him. They ended up on either side of Geralt, petting his chest. 

Trailing a hand down Geralt's side, Rhys left white marks with his fingernails that turned red after a second. "He really is exceptional. Do you think I can make him come again while I fuck him?"

"You are welcome to try. I wouldn't be surprised." Duncan grabbed Geralt's chin, turned his head so Geralt was forced to look at him. "You only come when he allows you, understand?"

***

Nodding softly Geralt tried to shift his hips, to open his thighs and offer himself. Rhys took hold of them though, hands pressing into the hot skin and dragging him into place on his elbows and knees. The grip was deliciously painful and Geralt already knew he would be begging.

Barely able to keep his balance Geralt lost it as soon as Rhys pushed in. With a grunt of pain he slumped forward onto his shoulders, arms buckling under himself. The burn of his ass cheeks when Rhys pressed all the way in only made it better. Stretched out, ass in the air, head turned to the side Geralt watched Duncan watching him.

Deep down he knew Duncan would like what he saw, Geralt taking it all again for him. A willing whore. Geralt tried to speak, but the words were silent. His lips forming the motions of a ‘thank you, Sir’ in Duncan’s direction but no sound came out.

Geralt’s sore cock thrummed, swelling a bit more every time Rhys drove into him, rocking him into the bed. Exhaustion had claimed Geralt’s mind and his muscles but not his lust. As weak as he felt, as drained as he was, his libido was rallying. Rhys’ cock inside him felt wonderful, until Rhys’ hips hit his ass and then Geralt hissed in pain every time. It was a heady mix of sweetness and suffering that walked Geralt to the edge.

***

Wrapping his arms around Geralt's waist and chest, Rhys pulled him upright, on his knees with his back pressed to Rhys' chest. Geralt shifted and tried to balance himself, but Rhys had to take a lot of his weight. He didn't mind, he loved seeing Geralt this exhausted and fucked out. But he intended to push him even further.

With slow rolls of his hips, Rhys kept fucking into Geralt, in long, strong thrusts. He reached around and cupped Geralt's balls, fondled them to make Geralt tense up and clench around him. It drew loud moans from Rhys and he buried his face against Geralt's neck. 

In his hand, Geralt grew rapidly harder as Rhys stroked his shaft, circling a thumb over the tip. It made Geralt writhe in his embrace with pain and pleasure alike, and Rhys rocked him between his cock in Geralt's ass and his hand on Geralt's cock.

***

Duncan had watched them, enjoying Rhys being so unabashedly demanding, aggressively chasing his pleasure. And Geralt let him, offered himself up for both the agony and the bliss Rhys gave him. 

They looked amazing - both tall and lean, muscles shifting under scarred and tattooed skin as they moved together. White and black hair a striking contrast, pale skin flushed an appealing light red. Duncan was torn between wanting to touch, and wanting to just lay there and commit it all to memory.

In the end, he got up and knelt in front of them, taking Geralt in his arms and his weight out of Rhys' hold. He did no more than hug Geralt to himself, keeping him upright. Every thrust from Rhys pushed Geralt into him, and Duncan was close enough that the back of Rhys' hand brushed up against his cock. It was torture, he was achingly hard in his pants, but he didn't want any relief for himself. Not now.

***

Hanging loosely in Duncan’s grasp Geralt lipped at Duncan’s neck, trying to kiss or lick, something. Succeeding only at running his lips over the skin there and whimpering. Gods it was all so good, the way Rhys’ cock struck him just right inside every time, and the solid ache settling deeper into his cock with each stroke.

Opening his mouth to beg, Rhys’ cock buried itself inside, forcing out a rush of air and half a word. “Puh-” Lost and unable to think anymore Geralt’s mouth hung open next to Duncan’ neck.

Every deep stroke forced more sounds from his throat, warm moist puffs of air against Duncan’s skin. Groans of pleasure and pain and desire. Want. Geralt wanted to come. Not without permission though.

So he hung on Duncan and on the edge, waiting. Barely balanced, to be allowed to fall or to be pushed over by Rhys’ greed.

***

Rhys was so absorbed in the chase that he forgot for a bit that Geralt's wasn't actually allowed to come. He did remember in time, before forcing him into it and he couldn't help but be impressed Geralt had held on this long.

"Come for me." Rhys' tone was gentle and he kissed Geralt's neck, gave him a tiny nip with his fangs. 

Pushing him forward into Duncan, trusting Duncan to keep them balanced, Rhys let go of whatever restraint he still had. He spread his legs wider so he could put more force into his thrusts, took what he needed from Geralt. Stroked him fast and hard to make him come so Rhys could fuck him right through it.

***

Duncan took more of Geralt's weight, held him steady. Kept him in place for Rhys to torture and please however he wanted. 

Arousal had coiled tightly in his groin, but any frustration got pushed aside by the wish to see more of this. More of Geralt being so out of it he could barely keep himself upright. More of Rhys unbridled lust. More of the two of them pushing each other over the edge, Geralt's orgasm followed closely by Rhys.

They both collapsed against Duncan, Rhys sluggishly raising a hand to pet Duncan's arm, with his head lying on Geralt's back. The only sound was their heavy breathing and the little moans that escaped them as the aftershocks of their orgasm shook them. Duncan waited and let them enjoy it, caressing both of them softly. He'd go take care of them in a minute, clean them up, but not yet.

***

Geralt stayed spread over Duncan with Rhys pressed against his back, chest heaving. Ass on fire where Rhys' body pushed against it mercilessly eventually Geralt started to squirm. The high of his orgasm fading away and leaving only true discomfort.

Gently Geralt found himself tipped, rolled over with Rhys into Rhys' arms. A real groan left his mouth at the jostle. Gods Damn his balls hurt. Geralt had the urge to hold them to himself to keep them from moving too much.

Duncan returned to the bed, messy pants lost, with a wet cloth and bowl of warm water. Groaning, grunting, and sighing his way through a gentle washing, Geralt rolled onto his stomach so Duncan could clean his backside. 

There was a time where nothing happened and Geralt floated inside his head quietly. Surely Duncan was busily washing Rhys. Then Geralt was tipped back into Rhys and Duncan settled in behind him, careful of his ass and thighs.

***

Rhys hugged Geralt to himself. He had grabbed a piece of cloth and conjured up a chunk of ice. Crushed and wrapped in the cloth, the ice was merely cool, and Rhys carefully held it against Geralt's balls and cock.

Geralt flinched and then relaxed with a sigh as the cold numbed the pain and the soreness. Moving closer, Rhys nestled into him, one hand scritching his undercut. He closed his eyes and listened to Geralt's breathing, matched it with his own. With Duncan's hand resting on his side, Rhys fell asleep.

***

Stretching luxuriously, Duncan blinked himself awake. He had spend a bit watching Geralt and Rhys sleep and then had dropped off himself without even noticing. On his back, with Geralt in his arm and a leg thrown over him, Duncan was content.

Rhys was sitting up against the headboard, one hand petting Geralt's hair, a piece of bread with butter and honey in the other. He smiled down at Duncan. "Hey." 

Seeing Rhys devour the bread made Duncan realize that he was hungry. Judging by the diminishing light, they had taken quite a nap. He extricated himself from Geralt's grasp slowly and sat up, accepting a piece of bread and cheese from Rhys. Duncan gave him a kiss in return, tasting sweet honey. "You've had fun. I enjoyed watching you." 

They petted Geralt together, intertwining their fingers.

***

Groaning and shifting Geralt slowly became aware of the orks having a conversation above him. Pushing himself up to sit in between them Geralt outright hissed. Fuck, he had forgotten for a moment what it felt like to be truly whipped or beaten. A perk of getting slightly well known. _And he’d asked for this one_.

“Is anyone gonna feed me?” The cheeky grin plastered on Geralt’s face let it be known that he wasn’t truly offended he was the last to wake.

Rhys smiled at Geralt fondly and offered him a bite of cheese directly from his hand. As soon as his mouth was occupied chewing Rhys checked in. "How are you feeling?"

Geralt was sure having to finish and swallow was intentional on Rhys' part, giving him time to really think it over before answering. "Aside from my ass? And cock? And balls?" Geralt grinned and leaned into Rhys. "Amazing, actually. Everything else is tender, but it's a good kind of sore?" 

There was no doubt for Geralt that these two understood what he meant by that. Sitting was less than comfortable at the moment but he wouldn't have it any other way. 

"What about the two of you? Did you enjoy tormenting me and owning me?" Hand rubbing along the shaved side of Duncan's head, Geralt happily accepted another bite from Rhys. This one had a bit of bread and cheese combined.

***

Duncan turned his head into Geralt's hand with a satisfied hum. He loved the slow waking up with his lovers, and the cuddling and feeding each other snacks. It was a good way of coming out of a scene, disentangling himself from the intensity of it. 

"I did. Being able to watch you two, that was amazing. I'm usually too busy being in pain to have time to really watch Rhys being all possessive and cruel." Duncan laughed, half expecting to get hit with a pillow. But Rhys just smiled at him and he was planning _something_ , Duncan could tell.

"You didn't get to come, though." Geralt nosed at Duncan's neck, placed a kiss there that made Duncan shiver.

***

Rhys offered a last round of food and drink and when neither Duncan nor Geralt wanted any, he put it aside and came up on all fours. Stalking up along Duncan's legs until he had him trapped against the headboard, Rhys kissed him. 

"We should do something about that." Duncan was about to say something and Rhys silenced him with another kiss. Moving back, Rhys grabbed Duncan around the waist and pulled until he was flat on his back. It forced a surprised gasp out of Duncan, but he quickly shifted to get comfortable.

One knee pushing Duncan's legs apart, Rhys trailed a hand down Geralt's chest, inviting him to come straddle Duncan's other leg. With Geralt next to him, Rhys combed his fingers through Geralt's ponytail, pulling him into a long, lazy kiss. Made a show out of it for Duncan.

Taking Geralt's hand, Rhys ran it up Duncan's side and over his chest to his neck. He showed Geralt all the small ways to touch Duncan to make him sigh and shudder. Barely felt fingertips behind and up along the ear, bending the tip of the ear, gently massaging it between two fingers. Fingertips running along Duncan's jaw, tracing his lips and eyebrows. The slightest scratch of fingernails along his side.

With another kiss, Rhys left Geralt to explore on his own for a while and moved further down so he could kiss and nibble at Duncan's thigh and hip, completely ignoring his cock. Except that he let his braid fall from his shoulder so it curled on top of it, teasing it ever so slightly with each move of Rhys' head.

***

Left to his own devices Geralt continued to run his fingernails up and down Duncan’s side. Much softer than he would have had someone do to him, and yet it evoked a clearly appreciative reaction from Duncan. Barely a scratching sensation but enough to make Duncan let out his breath gently.

Geralt bent down to follow the trail of his fingernails with his lips. Placing a soft series of kisses up the side of Duncan’s ribcage, over his chest and up his pec. Along his neck, the barest graze of teeth over the hinge of Duncan’s jaw, and then more kisses up the shell of his ear. Geralt drew the tip of Duncan’s ear into his mouth when he reached it. Gently sucking and licking at it and listening to Duncan’s breath speed up a fraction.

Slipping his hand behind Duncan’s neck Geralt cradled it. His other hand roamed down Duncan’s stomach, petting over the ridges of muscle there. The back of it brushed Duncan’s cock but Geralt took note of Rhys ignoring it for now and so he did too.

Pulling away from Duncan’s ear Geralt found his mouth. Kissed his lips in a slow undemanding way, never pushing for more. When he came up for air Duncan was flushed, red blotches creeping up his chest to his neck, and Geralt thought it was as gorgeous as he’d ever seen Duncan.

“You look stunning like this.” Geralt smiled at Duncan and laughed at himself before leaning down for another kiss before Duncan could feel like he needed to say anything. It wasn’t something he’d intended to say out loud, but he couldn’t help but say the truth and he didn’t want to hear Duncan denying it either.

***

Duncan let himself be silenced by Geralt's kiss. He didn't know what to say anyway, and maybe he should just take the compliment. Spirits knew he had said and thought it about Geralt often enough. 

The soft touches, the praise, and the arousal rekindled by it all came together to melt him. Duncan sunk into the mattress, trying to breathe slowly. He reached out, running one hand over Geralt's back and burying in the other in Rhys' hair. His cock was already hard and he wished someone would touch it, but he could tell that wasn't going to happen for a while. Rhys had that smile. The one that meant he intended to see Duncan fall apart.

Duncan had no problem doing him that favor. With closed eyes, he focused on their hands on his body, on kisses and gentle bites, on the dip of the mattress when they moved, and on their breathing.

***

Rhys had worked his way up Duncan's thighs. For a bit, he had sat between Duncan's legs, petting him and watching Geralt explore. There was a look of fascination on Geralt's face, like he had never done this before. Rhys thought he probably hadn't, not with Duncan. They enjoyed their hard play too much, and Geralt wouldn't take the initiative for something this soft. 

They were so careful with each other. And they both looked stunning. Duncan all sprawled out on the bed, not safeguarding himself in any way. All open for his lovers and whatever they wanted to do. Geralt bent over him, enthralled by the effect his gentle touches and kisses had.

Moving up, Rhys joined Geralt in caressing Duncan's chest and stomach, in kissing his neck and face. Between them, it didn't take long for Duncan to started shuddering and breathing hard. His hand drifted down to his cock and Rhys took his wrist, placed it gentle but firmly next to his head.

"That's ours. You're not to touch." Rhys kept his tone soft, and let Duncan draw him down into a kiss. 

Taking Geralt's hand, Rhys intertwined their fingers and brushed along Duncan's shaft. The reaction was immediate, a violent flinch and a loud moan. Rhys grinned at Geralt, pulling him into a kiss. With them sitting on either side of Duncan, it let them show off for Duncan while teasing his cock together.

***

Geralt went easily into the kiss, grinning into Rhys’ mouth. Moving his hand in a gently teasing touch with Rhys they stroked up Duncan’s cock while Geralt kept the fingertips of his other hand skating up and down Duncan’s side. When Duncan gave a desperate moan and his hips lifted up into their hands Rhys guided Geralt’s hand lower.

They left Duncan’s cock behind, aching and twitching with want, instead cupping his balls in their hands. Shifting and fondling them, ever so gently grasping each one and drawing it away as it tried to pull back towards Duncan’s body. Duncan spread his legs wider without being asked and Geralt wanted to slip between them and bow his head over Duncan’s cock to lick and suck it.

Instead he moved down on the bed and laid alongside Duncan’s massive leg. Resting his head on Duncan’s abdomen. Their hands wandered softly back up to Duncan’s thick cock and when the first dribble of precum started to flow Geralt darted his tongue out to lap it up.

***

Rhys left Geralt for a moment to grab the flask of oil from the nightstand. He returned to his place between Duncan's spread legs and watched Geralt for a moment, running a hand down his back. Staying away from his bruised ass and thighs, the cane slashes there a deep red, almost black.

He bent down to give Geralt a soft nip on the neck, kissed the spot immediately after. "Do you want him in your mouth? I'll take care of his ass. But slow. Take your time with him."

With Geralt moving to take Duncan's cock into his mouth, Rhys slicked his fingers up and traced them over Duncan's hole. At first he only teased, until Duncan gave a desperate whine, rolling his hips. Pushing in, Rhys moved as slowly as he could, one hand on Duncan's hip to hold him still. Under his palm, Duncan quivered with tension, twitching whenever Geralt hit the right spot with his tongue.

Using two fingers, Rhys fucked into Duncan at a languid pace. He was in no hurry.

***

Duncan had one hand in Geralt's hair, the ponytail wound around his fingers. There was no pressure to it, he didn't intend on holding Geralt down or making him do anything. He just wanted to touch him, feel the movements as Geralt licked and sucked his cock.

His other hand grasped the bed sheets as Rhys stared to fuck him. And he knew exactly how to touch Duncan, how to move, what rhythm to keep. Together with Geralt's talented mouth, Duncan couldn't see himself lasting very long. But he tried, closing his eyes again and drifting in the current between their touches.

***

As he hummed around the head of Duncan’s cock, it twitched on Geralt’s tongue. He had power here, and it was a bit intoxicating. Duncan’s cock was something Geralt was always interested in, the heft of it, the size, the thickness and the taste; rarely did he get to taste it though and when he did it was always cut short by moving on to the main activity.

Not this time though. Geralt had it in his mouth and he had Rhys’ permission— no _instruction_ — to drag it out. He intended to and Duncan would take everything Geralt doled out to him. Flicking his tongue over the sensitive slit, Geralt pulled his lips tight over the head, drawing it out of his mouth. Cupping Duncan’s balls in his hand he licked up the shaft and pointed his tongue, swirling it in tiny circles against the most keenly pleasurable spot right under the head.

Duncan’s fingers grasped and opened in his hair. Squeezed closed again as he moaned. Geralt mouthed over the head again and pushed his lips open with it. Sinking it into his mouth, letting himself take it deeper, not into his throat - this wasn’t about him proving that he could, or making himself gag. Just until the head rested against the back of his mouth and he could draw his tongue along the underside of Duncan’s shaft.

The taste of salt and musk spread in his mouth like wildfire and Geralt sucked hard, swallowing down every bit that leaked out of Duncan. Underneath them, Duncan was panting, hips shifting, trying to cant up softly into Geralt’s mouth with every plunge of Rhys’ fingers in his ass. Geralt massaged Duncan’s balls in his hand. They were tight and high, aching to spill in his mouth, and Geralt wanted to feel Duncan lose that control.

***

Between Rhys' fingers in his ass and Geralt's mouth on his cock, Duncan was lost. He clung to the last of his control like a man adrift at sea will cling to a floating piece of timber.

This wasn't a fight. Duncan was perfectly happy to be made to come eventually. But it all was too good to give up just yet. Squirming under their touch, Duncan let his lovers play and tease and drive him higher.

Until the balance shifted and the pleasure building up in his groin turned into a fierce need. A need to come right _now_ , to let go and fall, snap the tension that turned all his nerves into live wires.

"Please- please let me come--" Duncan thrust up into Geralt's mouth, bore down on Rhys' fingers. His voice was little more than a pitiful whine.

***

Rhys had watched Duncan, soft and pliant under their hands. With his skin shining with sweat, flushed dark with arousal, muscles shifting and bulging as he writhed, Duncan was a feast. One that Rhys intended to savor. And Geralt with him, by all appearances.

He had Duncan's cock in his mouth and moved with him so that Duncan couldn't escape the pleasure. With closed eyes, Geralt was focused on what he was doing and judging from Duncan's reactions, he was doing it well. Even when he came up to take a breath, Geralt kept Duncan in his mouth. Rhys could tell from the way Duncan twitched and flinched that Geralt worked him over with his tongue, not allowing him the slightest break.

When Duncan begged, Rhys pushed his fingers into him right up to the knuckles of his hand. Curling one finger up, Rhys pressed down and circled gently on Duncan's prostrate, making him cry out loud.

"He can take more of this." One hand between Geralt's shoulder blades, Rhys bent down to whisper to him. But not so quietly that Duncan wouldn't hear. "It's your decision, give him what he wants or make him wait a little longer."

***

Geralt wasn’t _done_ with Duncan. Not yet. He was very much enjoying the way Duncan’s hips moved trying to find the satisfaction Geralt was in control of. Circling his thumb and forefinger around the top of Duncan’s sack, Geralt tightened them into a ring forcing Duncan’s balls down and away from his body. The move had Duncan drawing in a long sharp breath.

For a moment Geralt took his mouth off of Duncan’s cock. “I want you truly desperate when you give in to us.” Licking the full length of his cock again, Geralt stared up at Duncan’s face while he swirled his tongue around the head.

Taking Duncan’s salty swollen cockhead back into his mouth, Geralt hummed around it. He went back to work teasing Duncan with his mouth, one hand circling the top of Duncan’s ball sac with just enough firmness to hold his orgasm at bay, the other wandering over Duncan’s shoulder and down his arm. Running over the muscles there, then down to weave his fingers into Duncan’s.

Whatever Rhys was doing to Duncan’s ass was driving him wild and making him leak copiously into Geralt’s mouth. Duncan writhed, trying to roll his hips up and down into Geralt’s mouth and back onto Rhys’ fingers. Rhys was trying to keep Duncan’s hips under control and Geralt threw his leg over Duncan’s next to him in order to help keep him still.

Duncan struggled particularly hard to thrust upward and Geralt felt the tug of his balls against his hand. It was the tiniest movement but Geralt picked it up, he was so well trained to feel the slightest flinch. 

“Please. I have to come, now!” 

The urgent note in Duncan’s plea was exactly what Geralt craved to hear and he quickly cupped Duncan’s balls up against his body, taking him as deep as he dared without gagging. Duncan’s balls tightened up in his hand and Geralt ran his palm up over them, taking Duncan in hand. Stroking the base of his cock in short firm strokes that met up to where his lips sealed around Duncan’s shaft.

***

Rhys sat back on his heels and watched, fingers still pressed into Duncan's ass. It wasn't exactly a surprise to him to see Geralt get a little drunk on the control he had over Duncan, but it was fascinating to watch. 

And it was exactly what Rhys enjoyed. As soft and gentle as all of this was, power still got handed over. And he was sure it had been the first time Duncan had allowed Geralt to see him like this, and to take this much control from him.

Rhys had seen Duncan like this many time, but he never got tired of it. Of seeing Duncan fall apart and lose all the defenses he guarded himself behind. And Rhys thought he'd never get tired of seeing Geralt giving in to the side of him that enjoyed having his partner at his mercy.

***

With Geralt touching him _exactly_ right, Duncan came after the first few strokes. He clutched Geralt's hand tightly, held on to it like it was the only thing keeping him afloat. 

Held down by both of his lovers, their weight on top of him, Duncan was helpless to do more than writhe and shudder. He cried out when his orgasm swept him away, the wave crashing over him the only thing in his mind.

The first thing Duncan became aware of again was Geralt licking him clean, intense shocks of pleasure driving him into overstimulation. With a whine, he tried to roll over on his side, to protect himself.

"Please, no more--" Duncan reached out to pet Geralt. Not to pull him away - if Geralt wanted to continue, Duncan would submit. He might not have much of a choice. Rhys had stretched out next to him, one leg and one arm on top of him, keeping him in place.

***

With a grin Geralt relented, turning his head to kiss the inside of Duncan’s hip instead. Working slowly up he paid special attention to the thin faded scar where Duncan had had a kidney replaced. Geralt always thought of Duncan’s skin as flawless but there _were_ a few scars, even some scattered faded stretch marks from working out and building so much muscle. To Geralt it would always be perfect though.

When he reached Duncan’s pec Geralt gave it a quick kiss and laid his head down on it. Draping his leg over Duncan again and spreading his arm out on top of Duncan’s chest with Rhys.

Geralt walked his fingers up Duncan’s breastbone, staring at Rhys from between them with a smile. Cursing his own stamina Geralt took note of the fact that he was already half hard again where his cock laid up against Duncan’s hip, but it was a _little_ bit too sore to actually be interested in doing anything.

Probably for the best. It had been wonderful to spend some time worshiping Duncan. Turning his head up to look at Duncan, Geralt could only see the side of his face. “You were lovely there. Letting me tease you and then coming so desperately for me.”

***

"You enjoyed that, didn't you." Duncan was still out of breath, only slowly calming down. He shifted until he had one arm around Geralt, the other around Rhys, and could pet them both.

He could have done with a bath, but this was much too enjoyable to give up yet. And he was too exhausted to much, if he was being honest with himself. 

"You know how to tease me. Both of you. I wouldn't say no to doing that again once in a while. If you want to, even as part of a scene. I _know_ you have a sadistic side, I'd be up to seeing more of that." Having seen the bruises Geralt left on Rhys, Duncan had actually been impressed. And he was curious.

***

Rhys gave a soft laugh, leaning over to kiss first Duncan and then Geralt. "Be careful what you wish for."

The chance of seeing Geralt take control over Duncan was exciting. Rhys was already coming up with scenarios to roleplay this and reminded himself to calm down and wait. Geralt hadn't even said yes, and it would need careful negotiation.

"I think you would enjoy each other that way." He looked up at Geralt, head resting on Duncan's chest. "If you want me to, I can look out for you and make sure you don't go too far. And that you", he poked a finger at Duncan, "don't ask for too much."

Duncan grinned at him, not in the least offended. "That would probably be good."

***

Caught off guard by Duncan's request, Geralt's first reaction was that he wanted to curl around Duncan's side and squeeze him tightly. But he caught himself. Instead he slowly rolled the idea over in his mind. The feeling of having power over Duncan, even that tiny bit to say, take more, had been heady.

"I wouldn't want to hurt you a lot, I don't think? Well, I don't really know actually - when I get in that place I might. I really am an asshole. You'd have to be willing to use your word if I went too far." Geralt paused to imagine what it might be like and the image of making Duncan come, forcing it out of him hit him hard.

"I will use you, abuse you, tell you awful things and get off on you being afraid of me, so it won't really matter if you _look_ like you enjoy it or not. Rhys can tell you, I will feed on your fear and I can be very humiliating." Swallowing hotly, Geralt looked over at Rhys. "If you really want to see that side of me and Rhys will watch me, I'd do it for you."

***

"Everything you said sounds good to me. Pretty sure I can take it, but if not, I'll safeword. Or Rhys will for me. Like it works with Eskel when you two play." Duncan gave a slight sliver at the though of playing this hard with Geralt.

He gave a tug on Rhys' hair. "Can we make it part of our play with the captive? Fit well in there, I think."

"Oh yes we can." Rhys grinned, clearly delighted with the idea. "I've thought of a couple of things already." He reached over to Geralt to pet his back. "I think you'll enjoy that, it's not so different from what we do."

Duncan wound Geralt's ponytail around his hand. carding his fingers through it. "Rhys has made me think that he only want the best for me, keeping me prisoner. And I'd do anything for him, but that doesn't mean I won't be afraid. Or that I won't hate what you do to me. But the real me will enjoy himself."

***

Perking up immediately at what they were saying Geralt rose up on one elbow, a grin stealing over his lips. "Did you say 'captive'? As in you are playing Rhys' prisoner and I'll get to do whatever I think you deserve?"

Geralt dropped down and rubbed his face into Duncan's neck. Thanking the Gods his cock was so sore. At least that almost kept his instant arousal at the thought of bossing Duncan around like _that_ partially in check.

"I don't think you understand just how much I love playing with that." Giving a playful bite to Duncan's skin Geralt pulled away and stretched over to pull Rhys into a kiss. "But yeah, I think we can work something out."

Already Geralt was playing out ideas in his head of things he could do to Duncan. And how Duncan would let him, looking terrified the whole time. It made him hot just to think about it. "You'll have to tell me if there are things that are off limits. We've never played with me...kind of in charge before? So I can really commit them to my mind. I get as lost in being in charge as I do in letting someone else boss me around. Hence why Rhys has to be there. I won't ever do it without someone to watch me."

Still, even knowing his own limits the idea excited Geralt and he couldn't wait. Patient had never been his strong suit. This wasn't something that would happen tonight or even tomorrow though, so Geralt reminded himself to stay calm.

***

"I can write you a list, and tell you what I do like. But yeah, Rhys should be there. I think I would use my safeword if you went too far, but I sometimes get lost, too. So we better have backup." Duncan pulled both of them into a hug, savoring their weight on top of him. It was comforting, a tangible reminder that they were his.

"I'm starving though. And I want a bath. What do you say, we get dressed and head for the bathhouse. Have dinner there." Duncan's stomach rumbled at the thought of the food there. 

Rhys stretched luxuriously on top of him. "Yes, please. Dinner and a bath sounds wonderful." 

He got up, rolling off the bed graceful as ever, and held out both hands to Duncan and Geralt. "Come on. I want to sit in a giant tub with hot water and have you both feed me pastries."

Duncan couldn't think of anything he'd rather have done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content info:  
> caning  
> verbal humiliation  
> oral/anal sex  
> caning  
> cock and balls torture  
> orgasm denial


	14. To Face Your Wrath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Rhys dropped his gaze, watching Eskel from under his lashes as he considered his options. Something made Eskel nervous, fiddling with the Gwent deck, and Rhys aimed to appear more vulnerable and nervous himself._  
>  Rhys plays a dangerous game, with both Eskel and Geralt.

Rhys was woken from a light sleep by the door being opened. He scrambled to sit up. Geralt had taught him that Rhys was expected to be on his knees when Geralt came to see him. It had been a few painful lessons and Rhys had finally decided it wasn't worth disobeying. He had other plans that required his energy.

It was just Eskel though, flicking the candles in the room to life with a short gesture. He put a bowl of food down in front of Rhys, moving easily within the reach of Rhys' chain, clearly confident in his ability to subdue him if needed. And he wasn't wrong about that.

Taking the bowl, Rhys devoured his food, not paying attention to anything else. Ever since Eskel had taken over feeding him, he was getting enough to actually feel a little stronger. And ever since Rhys had come up with a plan to _maybe_ free himself, his connection to his magic had healed. The shackles still kept him from casting any spell, but the soothing presence of his mentor was back in his mind.

When he was finished eating, Rhys put down the empty bowl at the furthest reach of his chain, still well away from Eskel sitting on the cot. Staying on his knees, Rhys looked up at him, bound hands in his lap. 

"Thank you. And thank you for not going back on our deal with the bath, even though it angered him that much. I appreciate that." There hadn't been time for them to talk since, Geralt had always been around. So Rhys had been biding his time for an opportunity just like this.

***

"Deal's a deal. 'M not an asshole. I know you think all witchers are prol'ly monsters but some of us are reasonable." Eskel got up from the cot and retrieved Rhys' empty bowl.

"'Sides, he'll forgive me." Eskel shrugged. "'M not sure what he's got planned for tonight, but he won't be here for a bit so you might 's well get comfortable. No need to be on your knees for me."

Geralt might expect that kind of groveling but Eskel didn't. He didn't enjoy the thought that he had to beat a partner into submission. That they were willing and had some talent was plenty enough for him. And this one had shown he was both quite talented with his mouth and could be willing if the stakes were right.

"If you want another bath, we can trade again. Sweeten the deal an' I'll even take you up there tomorrow— when I know he's not gonna be around— so you don't get interrupted. Let you eat a real lunch." Eskel wondered how far Rhys would go. What would he offer for the promise of a guaranteed uninterrupted bath, and more than a larger portion of bread and cheese.

***

Rhys moved back a step before getting up and stretching, raising his shackled hands above his head with a clank of the chain. Letting Eskel see what he was offering, and offering freely. At least Eskel seemed to consider it being offered freely and Rhys was not about to correct him.

Pacing for a few steps and fiddling with his braid, Rhys gave some thought to the offer. He didn't want to offer too much too eagerly, let Eskel think this was a hard decision for him. 

In truth, he hadn't exactly fucked anyone for a _meal_ before but Rhys wasn't much of a stranger to using sex to get what he wanted. He enjoyed it with the right partner, but it could also be a transaction, cold and calculated. And he was good at hiding that.

"What would you like?" Rhys easily sat down crosslegged in front of Eskel, not pulling on the chain. It was a comfortable distance for them to talk, and Rhys dropped his gaze, only to look up again as if remembering what Geralt had beaten into him. _You do not get to look away!_

He knew well that Eskel didn't want that from him, but it offered another opportunity to distance himself from Geralt.

***

Smirking, Eskel sat down on the cot again sifting through his saddlebag. “I _want_ a lot of things.” Rhys was playing him, Eskel was pretty sure, by the way he hadn’t offered anything up. Only asked what Eskel wanted. Exactly what Rhys was playing him at, he wasn’t sure of just yet. It could be that he didn’t really want to offer more, or that he’d give Eskel whatever he asked for but didn’t want to offer more than Eskel intended to request.

Banking on the latter Eskel aimed high and blunt. What he wanted was to feel like Rhys wanted to be with him, was enjoying himself. “I want you to come for me.” Continuing to sift through his bags Eskel pulled out a Gwent deck and began to shuffle it aimlessly, just to avoid having to look right at Rhys. His stare was unnerving.

“I don’ care how. I can fuck you, suck you off, put my fingers in your ass an’ my mouth on it, as long as I get to come an’ then watch you get off too.” Eskel glanced up from his deck to gauge Rhys’ reaction. “You have choices there, or you don’ have to do it at all. ‘S up to you.” 

It was almost impossible to read Rhys’ face, Geralt had beat the flinches all out of him. Compared to what Geralt would do, getting fucked by Eskel probably seemed like a treat.

***

Rhys dropped his gaze, watching Eskel from under his lashes as he considered his options. Something made Eskel nervous, fiddling with the Gwent deck, and Rhys aimed to appear more vulnerable and nervous himself.

He let the silence stretch for a bit. Pitched his voice low, and hesitant. "Would you like to watch me pleasure myself while you finger my ass? I think I could— enjoy that."

His voice was barely audible, but he was sure Eskel heard him just fine. "If you want to take your time with it, we should do it tomorrow. Maybe he won't even notice." Rhys let hope creep into his voice. It wasn't hard, he really did not want Geralt to walk in on this. The thought of Geralt's rage and his cold cruelty twisted Rhys' gut with fear. And he knew very well Eskel wouldn't help him.

***

“Mmm.” Shifting on the cot to remove some of the pressure from his leathers, Eskel put one leg up and leaned back. Just the idea of watching Rhys get himself off, willingly, while Eskel touched him got him hard. “Yeah.” Eskel cleared his throat, trying not to sound quite so turned on by the idea. “I’d like that. An’ I can make it feel really good. Promise. But what about me?”

Hell’s, Eskel would be able to touch himself while watching that and get off but he wanted more and he was sure Rhys was holding out. “I wanna come too, how are you gonna get me off then? Before or after, what are you gonna do for me… or to me?”

A hundred fantasies were running through Eskel’s head. He would take any of them. “Definitely tomorrow, I want to take my time with you. Enjoy myself, let you enjoy yourself with me. But I need to get off too, or no deal.”

***

Rhys raised his shackled hands. "If you give me a longer chain, I can stroke your cock while I touch myself. I won't try anything, you know that."

Swallowing down the lump of arousal and fear in his throat, Rhys cast a quick glance up at Eskel. "Or you can fuck my mouth. But I promise I'm good with my hands." He truly would have preferred not having to take Eskel down his throat again. He would, if that was what it took. But it wouldn't harm his plans to let Eskel see that he was a little afraid of it. As long as Rhys appeared willing to do it anyway, it would only add to the attraction.

***

The way Rhys hesitated to offer his mouth up again caught Eskel's attention. "A longer chain isn't part of the deal. It won't matter though, I'll work it out."

Setting his deck on the cot, Eskel strode over to Rhys and squatted down in his space. Reached out to brush his fingers through his hair. "You don't want to take me in your mouth again." It wasn't a question, Eskel could tell. "Why? It made you hard last time, an' I could smell how much you enjoyed it."

This truly puzzled Eskel. If Rhys was afraid of it why had it turned him on so much? "I didn't force you. Let you set the pace. I was gentle."

***

"I prefer other things, and you did let me choose." Rhys leaned the smallest bit into the touch. "Which doesn't mean I didn't enjoy it. And if you'd rather have that, you can. But it's not my choice. This time."

He kept his voice low, and didn't quite look up at Eskel. Only shy, furtive glances. But he never moved away from the touch. "And I trust that you won't force me."

***

“You prefer other things.” Eskel chewed on the words while he rubbed a thumb over Rhys’ temple. The memory of Rhys’ throat fluttering around him was fresh in his mind and it had been so glorious and arousing. Pulling his orgasm from him with so little effort. “But you did it anyway, an’ you did enjoy it.”

It was still hard to imagine that Rhys had chosen to do it despite not liking it that much, and Eskel was surprised that he admitted so easily that he had enjoyed it. Still, if he enjoyed it why didn’t he like doing it? Why did he not want to do it again. For now Eskel pushed it away. He would get a lot from this. He’d wanted to have Rhys touch himself last time but it wasn’t part of the deal.

Now it was. And he looked forward to it. Eskel would do everything he could to make Rhys’ experience with him unforgettable. “Don’ worry ‘bout it. I won’t make you take me in your throat again. You can use your hands. I’ll make it so you can, but if you run or try an’ hurt me you know what will happen. I really don’ want to have to do that.” Eskel very plainly let his face say it, _don’t make me kill you_.

“I’ll shackle your feet instead. Get some cuffs that aren’t attached so you can touch yourself an’ me. Can’t give a good handjob in those an’ a longer chain might jus’ end up around my neck.” Eskel stood up and returned to his cot, trying hard not to think about the line he was walking. Rhys didn’t want to be here, at all, even if Rhys admitted to enjoying what they did. He couldn’t overlook the very real possibility Rhys would take any chance he could to escape.

***

Rhys was almost offended Eskel didn't trust him, he truly did not plan on choking the witcher with a chain. There was no way he could manage that, so why even try. He might have tried with Geralt, just out of defiance. But not with Eskel. Also, Eskel would just kill him without a second thought.

"I think you will not be disappointed." The words were matter of fact, no bragging and no flirting. Rhys knew very well that he was good at figuring out how people liked being touched, talked to, pleased.

"We'll see." Eskel leaned back on the cot, picking up his pack of Gwent cards again. "You better get on your knees. Geralt's on the stairs."

Scrambling back to his bedroll, Rhys hurried to heed the warning and knelt. Hands in his lap, head down. As long as Geralt didn't pay attention to him, watching him was not required. 

Rhys flinched when the door opened and fell shut with a loud noise, after a kick from Geralt. Try as he might, he couldn't help but tensing up - fingers digging into the fabric of his pants, jaw tight, neck bowed in a taut curve. Everything in him told him to fight or run, but he could do neither. He could only wait what Geralt wanted to do to him and do his best to endure it.

Geralt walked past him and even the smell of him - leather and blade oil and his musk underneath - was enough to make a shiver run over Rhys. He bit his lip and tried not to fidget. Fidgeting annoyed Geralt.

***

There would be no problem getting hard for the scene, Geralt was already there. Having watched and listened quietly from the far side of the room leaning on a barrel Geralt was enthralled yet _again_ with the way Eskel and Rhys interacted when playing together. Even in this, playing roles where no sex was happening. Especially in this in a way, because it was like they were fucking each other mentally. It was _twisted_ in a way Geralt’s persona never was. 

Geralt’s persona kept things brutal and physical and forceful. Eskel’s though— Gods Above and Below— he was forcing Rhys’ persona into doing things while actually using the words, ‘I didn’t force you.’ If that wasn’t fucked up, Geralt didn’t know what was.

When the time came for him to enter the scene he quietly padded out of the room and took a moment outside the door to fall into his role, to get angry and moody. To let the lust settle over him. Rhys was _his_ and Geralt could have whatever he wanted from him. Picking up his bag from beside the door he shoved it open and slammed it behind himself with a kick.

Ignoring Rhys and Eskel completely for a moment, Geralt grabbed a round table from the far end of the room where the cabaret stored spares. He cartwheeled it over to the cot, parking it between Eskel and himself. A wooden chair soon joined it and Geralt slung his own bags over the corner of it. “Smells like someone’s been waiting for me to get back.” The derisive tone of his comment cut the silence as Geralt pulled out a Gwent deck and slammed it on the table.

Searching further in his pack Geralt pulled out a metal ring and a strap of leather. “Don’t worry, I won’t keep you waiting any longer.”

Geralt stood up and strode to where Rhys was kneeling. Grinning when Rhys’ eyes snapped up to him automatically. Such a good obedient captive— sometimes. “You’re learning. I’ll give you a choice. You can either open your mouth on your own, or I can make you. Either way this is going in your mouth, and either way so is my cock. The difference is how long I keep my runes up so you are completely helpless. Fight me and I’ll keep you soft and compliant all night long, fucking your throat as I please. Work with me and at least you can move when you really need to.”

Surely this was a good enough threat to get some willingness out of the ork, even if it was only willingness to open his mouth once. Geralt had no intention of suffocating him. A dead captive was a useless one. But he would have that mouth. He would know what it was like, what Eskel already knew. It wasn’t fair that Eskel had it willingly and he didn’t, but he’d take it like this if it was the only way.

***

Rhys considered for a long moment, but not too long. He had no illusions about what Geralt would do to him if Rhys tried his patience or refused. So he opened his mouth, even put his head back a little. And he pulled his lips back from his fangs. It wasn't much of a threat, but he was reasonably sure that Geralt found the fangs and tusks unsettling. He definitely had a sort of unwilling fascination with them.

Trying not to flinch when Geralt forced the ring into his mouth, Rhys breathed through his nose as slowly as he could. The leather strap secured the ring and pulled it forward. It wasn't painful yet, but it heightened his sense of helplessness, and panic stirred in his mind. Rhys tried to breathe it down, not completely successfully.

He jumped when Geralt removed the chain running from the shackles to the support beam. With a hard grip in Rhys' hair, Geralt pulled him forward and made Rhys crawl and scramble until he was on his knees again next to the chair. 

With the gag in place, Rhys had already started to drool. Spit ran over his chin, no matter how hard he tried to swallow it all down, and dripped on his chest. Once Geralt had let go of Rhys' hair, Rhys raised his head to look up at him. He ignored Eskel and focused on being, for once, an obedient slave like Geralt wanted. This would be hard enough even without Rhys trying to fight.

Eskel leaned forward and pressed a chime ball into Rhys' hand in a quick movement, easy to miss. Rhys closed his fingers around it and Eskel leaned back again, with a slight brush of his fingertips over the back of Rhys' hand.

***

Undoing his belt Geralt pushed his leathers and braies down, stroking his cock right in front of Rhys’ face where he couldn’t help but see it and likely smell it too. “We’re going to play Gwent and _you_ are going to keep me entertained. All nice and warm in that mouth of yours Eskel said was so wonderful.”

Taking a seat Geralt left his leathers and braies high around his thighs, easy to get back up if needed. Rubbing the head of his cock around Rhys’ lips he shuddered, ever careful of those sharp tusks and fangs. Fuck, he couldn’t believe Eskel had put his cock in there without something to prevent this little beast from biting it. 

When Geralt fed his cock inside there was no resistance. No lips pursed to stop him, only the overly wet slickness where Rhys’ drool was pooling in his mouth. Pushing the head of his cock along Rhys’ cheek, Geralt let out a sigh. Curling his fingers in Rhys’ hair, Geralt moved Rhys' head as it pleased him. His cock slipped and bumped around inside Rhys mouth gently at first.

It was so incredibly wet it made Geralt’s balls ache. Like a woman's cunt, Rhys’ mouth leaked all around him. The first time his cock nudged the back of Rhys’ throat, Geralt felt the tension in Rhys’ neck, the rough cough against the head of his cock. “Better breath Pointy, it’ll fit, all of it. And I know you want it. I could smell how much you needed my cock when I walked in the room.”

Tightening his grip on Rhys’ hair, Geralt let him take a deep breath before sinking in. Rhys gagged around him and Geralt only grunted in pleasure. “Ugh. Fuck yeah. That’s good.” Pulling out, Geralt paused only a moment before shoving back in all the way, forcing Rhys’ nose to his groin. “Gods, make me want to come in your tight little throat. But I have a game to play.”

Geralt pulled Rhys’ head back until his cock rested on Rhys’ tongue again. “Use your tongue. Keep me entertained. That is what you are after all— my entertainment. Don’t-” his fingers pulled in Rhys’ hair hard, “-try to make me come. That’s for after my game.”

Shuffling his deck Geralt nodded at Eskel. “Flip a coin for first play?”

Eskel shifted as he dug a coin out of his pouch, leathers uncomfortably tight. If he thought he’d been hard before, he was solid now. The coin spun in the air and Eskel caught it, slamming it down on the table and staring at Geralt.

“Guess it’s you first.” Geralt had glanced quickly at the coin and gone back to shuffling his cards. As though he didn’t have a care in the world, let alone his cock stuffed in Rhys’ unwilling mouth.

Drawing up his hand Eskel threw down a Berserker. It wasn’t that Geralt was forcing Rhys that frustrated Eskel so much, he’d long since decided that what Geralt wanted to do was between Geralt and himself. It was that Eskel was hard and interested and this little show of power was not doing anything to make that go away.

If Geralt hadn’t been on the way, he could have had his trade with Rhys tonight. Gotten to finger Rhys and watch him come. But no, instead he was stuck playing Gwent, watching Geralt get off while he got nothing out of it himself.

Geralt’s fleder flopped down on the table at the same time a sigh rolled out of Geralt’s mouth and he adjusted his hips. Eskel rolled his eyes.

***

Left to his own devices, Rhys licked Geralt's cock. He couldn't suck on it like he normally would. No great loss. The taste and girth and length of it were bad enough as it was. 

Swirling his tongue over the head, Rhys shifted into a more comfortable position. He couldn't deny the talk with Eskel had gotten him hard, and this was making it worse. The first thrust of Geralt's cock down Rhys' throat had been terrifying. He had choked and the panic has risen up. But at the same time, his cock was aching in his pants. Rhys wished it would go away. 

He moved forward and swallowed around Geralt as best as he could, took his cock deeper. It nudged the back of his throat and now that Rhys was in control, mostly, he could take it. And he did, just a quick dip. The chair creaked as Geralt moved, spread his legs wider in an almost involuntary movement.

Mindful of his orders to not make Geralt come, Rhys raised his head again and licked Geralt's cock clean of drool and precum. Took it back in his mouth and kept it there, licking and slowly dragging it over his tongue by moving his head.

***

Another berserker joined Eskel’s first, and Geralt had an inkling that he knew what Eskel was planning. Looking down at the table Geralt realized his mistake, in the curl of pleasure that had been his cock sliding down Rhys’ throat he had completely forgotten to muster the rest of his vampires when he played the fleder, and Eskel hadn’t said a word. The chance was gone now and with it any points he might have earned. Shit. 

Changing tactics entirely Geralt tossed down biting frost, halving the points Eskel would earn from his berserkers, even when they transformed. Eskel continued and Geralt curled his toes when his cock slid into Rhys’ throat again, involuntarily bucking his hips up. His balls were drenched in saliva and when Rhys pulled back the air cooled them making them tighten up.

Arousal wafted strong in the air. His own, Rhys’ — Eskel’s. Geralt caught Rhys’ knee with the toe of his boot and forced it out until he was kneeling with his knees spread wide. Tossing out a card, Toad, in his ranged row, Geralt decided it would work fine. Mind no longer on the game of Gwent at all but on an entirely different game, Geralt moved the toe of his boot up the inside of Rhys’ thigh.

Geralt put his hand back in Rhys’ hair and pushed his head down. Forcing him to take the full length of his cock again and holding it there for a moment, at the same time he pressed the toe of his boot into the swell in the front of Rhys’ braies. “Mmhmm, you like that don’t you? Nice cock in your throat to keep your feisty mouth full.” Letting Rhys up for air Geralt shuddered. He was leaking on Rhys tongue and he wasn’t sure how he could possibly last a whole game at this rate.

***

Eskel tried hard to ignore it, but Geralt grunts and groans went straight to his cock. Concentrating on the game was nearly impossible and he wanted to fuck someone _now_. Since he had no intention of being like Geralt and fucking Rhys without permission, that meant Geralt’s ass was up for grabs.

It wasn’t that Geralt didn’t like Eskel fucking him. On the contrary. He quite enjoyed it when Eskel was in the mood. The mood Geralt wanted just didn’t strike that often, which was why he’d taken Rhys in the first place.

Throwing his cards down in a pile on the table Eskel barked at Geralt. “Think we’re done here. You can’t play a fuckin’ game while you’re playin’ with your toy.” With a hand under each arm Eskel hauled Rhys up to standing, Geralt’s cock bobbing in the air wet with spit. Quickly unbuckling the makeshift gag, Eskel dropped it on the floor and marched Rhys back to his bedroll. “Sit.” The order was still gruff and Eskel reattached the chain to Rhys’ shackles without another word.

***

The sudden change of course had taken Rhys by surprise. He had stumbled along with Eskel and now dropped on his knees. Sucking down air and swallowing Rhys shuddered, wiping spit off of his face. With a silent sigh of relief, he did his best to let the tension drop out of him.

He watched carefully as Eskel marched back to Geralt who was caught between anger, surprise and arousal. The abrupt shift in mood and how Eskel had taken command had left Rhys unsure and unbalanced. But he observed, and took mental notes. He desperately needed to know more about their relationship if he was to play them against each other, and this was _interesting_.

Rhys tried not to think about what would happen after. He was sure he would pay for the interruption of Geralt's plans, just like he had paid for Eskel letting him bathe. But maybe Geralt would at least have forgotten about the gag.

***

“‘M tired of you usin’ ‘im to get off.” Eskel lifted Geralt by the belts of his armor until he was on his tip toes.

“Is that _so_?” Geralt spat the words out, face twisted in anger. “It’s not like you're exactly jumping at the chance to fuck me. The whole reason I picked him up was because you never want to get off with me. Yet, you let him suck you off for a _bath_.”

Dropping Geralt onto his feet, Eskel gripped the back of his neck and forced Geralt’s eyes down to his, wrapped his hand around Geralt’s still hard cock, pumping it slowly. “An’ when, exactly, was the las’ time you offered? When was the las’ time you went down on your knees an’ sucked my cock?”

“You don’t ever want it.” The fire was leaving Geralt’s fight rapidly though, Eskel could tell.

“I want it now. That an’ more.” Eskel lifted Geralt’s sword belt over his head and tossed it onto the cot. Unbuckling Geralt’s armor, he stripped him out of it efficiently. “I don’ wanna fight you for this, I wanna be given it, _offered_ it. Tha’s how I like it an’ you know it. If you’re not gettin’ it enough it’s ‘cause you’re always pushin’ for a fight.”

“Like this-” Eskel flipped Geralt around and bent him roughly over the table with a grunt. Pinning both Geralt’s wrists behind his back with one hand, Eskel fumbled in Geralt’s potion belt on the bed where he’d tossed the armor. His hand came back with a vial of oil. Uncorking it with his teeth, Eskel spit the cork out and poured it over Geralt’s exposed ass. “-you push an’ push until I have to take what I want an’ it pisses me off.”

“Please,” Geralt’s shoulders and face dangled over the edge of the table, its top not large enough to hold him, “- take what you need from me, anything. I’ll give it to you.” The words were almost as needy as Eskel felt. A feral groan ripped from Eskel’s lungs when he pushed into Geralt’s ass, so tight it almost hurt. Rocking his hips back, Eskel pushed forward again, opening Geralt up wide.

“You like it like this don’ you? Rough an' dirty.” Bottoming out, Eskel paused to keep from spilling then and there. “No wonder you like to take things from your toys. The violence turns you on, doesn’ it?”

Eskel let go of Geralt’s wrists and smacked his ass. “Answer me.”

***

Hands coming up to grip the edge of the table hard Geralt laid over it with his mouth gaped open, pain searing his ass in the shape of Eskel’s hand. It landed again, and he stuttered out an answer. “Y- yeah. Fuck, yeah it does.”

Geralt bucked back on Eskel’s cock. “You know it does. Come on, fuck me harder. Spank me. Make my ass red.” The absolute shock of having finally gotten to Eskel again had faded away and left nothing but the red hot embers of lust and need in its wake. Their fucking was infrequent but it was _intense_ and Geralt craved it.

Someone who could fight him and _win_ , fuck the anger right out of him. Geralt growled, the next blow landing harder than the last and Eskel squeezing the heat it left behind before hitting his ass again, and again.

***

Rhys was at the same time utterly fascinated and terrified. He didn't think this was unusual for them, and less out of control than it felt. Geralt _had_ been pushing Eskel harder and harder, and he rarely came to Rhys alone. What he did to Rhys was as much for Eskel's benefit as it was for his own. It was a way to get Eskel to where they were now. Make him annoyed enough to just _take_.

At no time had Rhys assumed Eskel was not violent or the trustworthy reasonable person he so clearly thought himself to be. So this wasn't really a surprise. But it gave him a lot to work with, and it did confirm that Geralt was jealous. Of Rhys offering seemingly freely to Eskel what Geralt had to fight for, as much as he enjoyed the fight. And, more importantly, of Eskel taking it.

This would be his way out of this. Maybe. If he played things carefully and slowly.

Curling up on his bedroll, Rhys made himself as small as possible and didn't move. Right now, neither of them cared he was there. But once they were done, Rhys was sure Geralt would care very much. This was intimate and vulnerable and he would hate that Rhys had witnessed it. Not that he would admit it, but he would punish Rhys for it in other ways.

And Eskel - Rhys thought that he would have to do some quiet reassuring tomorrow, when they were alone, that Rhys still believed him to be the better person. The one to trust, the one who would never take what he wanted, the gentle one. Rolled up on his blanket, Rhys played through possible conversations and tactics. But he never stopped listening to them, for fear of missing something important and to be ready when they had finished and attention shifted back to him.

***

Cock throbbing stiffly on one side of the small round table, Geralt's hands gripped the other side like he was being shoved off a cliff, and his head dangled over the edge. He was almost helpless against Eskel— the man knew all his well-practiced moves. Eskel’s hand connected with the top of his other cheek, and Geralt squeezed his eyes shut again for a moment, blinking so hard it scrunched his face up.

Gods Be Damned he loved it like this, when Eskel lost all thought of holding back. Hurt him the way Geralt craved, left a _mark_ that would last a day or two. The plunge of Eskel’s cock into him left Geralt’s ass spasming weakly in defense around it, the rim tender and raw, amplifying every bump and ridge that pushed past it. 

Geralt’s legs shook from pure pleasure, from pain, from the mixture of the two squeezing him tightly and pushing him higher. Every slap on his ass, brutal and sharply rebuking Geralt for his behavior, made him suck in a halting breath. 

“I’m… gonna… come…” Geralt’s words were pounded breathlessly out of him by Eskel’s hard thrusts.

“The fuck you are-” are loud slap landed on Geralt’s ass, followed by a distinctly painful cry, “-I didn’ say you could!” Eskel’s stomach blanketed Geralt’s back, a hand pulling his ponytail harshly forcing his head to the side to look at the room. Geralt shivered at the deep growl in his ear. “You’ll come when I say, an’ not a moment before.”

Geralt could only stare into the room blankly as it swam in front of him, boxes and barrels, crates. The rough satisfying stretch in his ass dragging him higher, Geralt clung to table, trying desperately to hold on. Not to disobey. Not to come, even with the head of Eskel’s cock beating a relentless rhythm on his prostate.

Geralt’s cock dripped on the floor and he whimpered.

Biting his lip, Geralt pulled his breath in through his nose. The whimpers coming more frequently and higher pitched. Then suddenly, blessedly, Eskel sighed above him, and a hot stickiness filled his ass. Eskel didn’t pull out, but laid exhausted on top of Geralt, pressing into him with all his weight, the table creaking under them. A hand squeezed Geralt’s cock, milking it.

“Come. Now.” The order was filled with fatigue and lacked the growling quality of earlier, but Geralt’s body didn’t care. Compliance was not optional. Eskel grunted behind him when Geralt’s body tightened down further on his sensitive cock, painting the floor below him with a feral cry.

***

Eskel panted heavily against Geralt’s back, catching his breath for a moment. The reality of some of his words snapping back in suddenly. Nothing of Geralt’s behavior had led Eskel to think it was too much in the moment but Geralt had a severe tendency to take that kind of humiliation _very_ personally, and it could send him spiraling downward in a way that was terrifying to see. And while Geralt had seemed to actively encourage it, Eskel was still worried.

Bringing a hand up to brush the wayward hairs out of Geralt’s face, Eskel pushed up on one hand. “Hey you,” kissing the back of Geralt’s neck and shoulder Eskel carefully watched his face, listened to his heart and breathing, “how are you doin’?”

Geralt _giggled_ , a smile spreading on his face. “I’m,” he had to pause to get his breath and his giggle under control, swallowing to continue, “amazing.” A moment later Geralt elaborated, having found a few more words. “We can keep going, it wasn’t _me_.”

Relief Eskel hadn’t known he was waiting for washed over him. That had been… different. Good. Eskel didn’t want to look at it too hard right now, but he’d liked it and knowing that it worked for Geralt too _was_ a relief.

Falling back into that moody broody role, Eskel pushed off Geralt and gave a lighter swat to his ass. “Look at that fuckin’ mess you made. ‘M gonna go clean up.” Eskel didn’t actually leave, but he took his saddle bags and walked to the door, opening and closing it before walking to the back of the room to take a seat among the crates and see what Geralt would do.

***

Rhys had sat up for a moment when Eskel checked in, to make sure everything was fine. The moment Eskel pretended to leave the room, Rhys curled up again, silent and still.

His cock was hard between his legs, and he desperately wished it wasn't. But all the fear churning in his stomach didn't make him any less aroused by what he had just witnessed, Geralt helpless in Eskel's grip, being made to wait and then to come like he was no better than Eskel's slave.

But that didn't change that Rhys, right now, belonged to Geralt. And Geralt was staring at him, unblinking, while pulling his leathers up. From his hard stare Rhys could guess at Geralt's rage, at the fact that Rhys had seen him like that. 

With a few quick bounds, Geralt was across the room and next to Rhys, a hand grabbing his braid. Rhys gave a frightened yelp and scrambled to get on his knees, hands raised halfway to his chest, palms out.

"Please, don't-" He swallowed the rest of his words when Geralt pulled his head back and bent down until they were face to face. Geralt had his teeth bared in a snarl, a cruel glint in his golden eyes.

"Shut up. You're going to clean up the mess you caused. And you better do it well." Unlocking the chain from the shackles, Geralt tightened his grip in Rhys hair and strode back towards the table, making Rhys crawl after him on all fours.

Rhys was so frightened, his breath came in big whooping sobs. There was no playing to an audience now, this was just between Geralt and him. And Rhys was truly afraid Geralt would snap at the slightest provocation, would hurt or kill him in a rage. The fear paralyzed him, and he moved too slow for Geralt's liking. It earned him a hard, pinching grasp to the arm that pulled him forward until he was on his knees over the puddle of Geralt's cum on the floor.

Pushing Rhys down like an angry man punishing his dog for making a mess, Geralt squeezed the back of his neck. He let go when Rhys was in the position he wanted, head down and ass up. "Get to work. And don't stop before it's all clean. If you don't do it right, you'll get the gag again, and then you can lick Eskel's cum out of my ass. You like it so much, after all." 

Choking down a sob, and gagging at the smell of cum, Rhys started to lap it up from the ground. It was cold and bitter on his tongue, and he retched again as he tried to swallow it down. He closed his eyes and gave a quiet whimper when Geralt's hand moved along his back and between his legs from behind. Right to where Rhys' hard cock was trapped in his braies.

***

The fucking little slut had seen him. At his game with Eskel, in the position Geralt most craved to be in, forced and under Eskel’s thumb. Geralt’s leathers rubbed abrasively against his ass, inflamed by Eskel’s spanking. Every movement only served to remind him of the pleasure he’d won from Eskel and with it that Rhys had witnessed the part of him that he was never meant to see.

If Rhys thought Geralt weak, then he wouldn’t be afraid and Geralt couldn’t have that. The game he played wouldn’t work if he couldn’t make Rhys shake with terror in front of Eskel. Best to correct that right now.

Gripping Rhys cock roughly through his braies Geralt found it hard. “You thought he was nice, didn’t you. You were _wrong_. He’ll do the same to you someday too, you know. Hold you down and fuck you ass whether you offer it or not. He’s no better than me.”

Rhys gagged and Geralt slapped his ass hard through his braies. “Swallow it all! It’s your fault!” 

“I was going to come in your throat. But not now.” Geralt untied Rhys’ braies and pushed them down. Deeming the floor clean enough he hoisted Rhys back up, grabbing him under the arms and dumping him on his back on the cot. Pulled Rhys’ braies off completely, throwing them aside and pushing Rhys’ legs open.

“No. Now _you_ are going to come for _me_ , because I say so, even though you won’t want to because I am going to make sure it hurts.” Taking Rhys’ balls in his hand Geralt tugged them down, pinching in between the two and then taking one in his hand. 

Geralt bore down, pressing his thumb directly into the tender flesh of Rhys’ ball until Rhys’ face contorted, terror fleeing in place of pain. “I’m not going to stop until you come. So I’d suggest touching yourself.” Geralt’s words were full of cruel mockery. “Unless you’d prefer me to.” A horrible grin spreading on his face.

***

Rhys swallowed down all the words that were fighting to slip off his tongue, along with the last of the taste of cold cum and stone. He badly wanted to throw sharp words into Geralt's face, to let him know he held no illusions about Eskel, but that Eskel at his worst was still better than Geralt himself. 

He did no such thing. It would have been stupid, and it would have enraged Geralt only further. Rhys didn't want to see that. 

Geralt's grip on his balls tightened and Rhys cried out, his legs shaking on either side of Geralt with the strain of keeping still. Rhys wanted to push up, get away from Geralt, turn on his side, close his legs to protect himself.

Reaching down, he took himself in hand and it tore a loud moan from him. He started stroking his shaft, slowly at first but speeding up when Geralt flicked at his balls. It made Rhys flinch and that tugged very unpleasantly on his balls, but not nearly as painful as what Geralt did, alternating between squeezing, flicking and roughly stroking the taut skin.

The cold fear in Rhys had drowned out any arousal in his mind, and the pain clung to it like weights. But with every stroke, every swirl of his fingers around the swollen tip of his cock, Rhys coaxed it higher. He forced himself to look at Geralt, but let his mind drift as best as he could, imagined himself elsewhere and with someone else. Someone who gave him pain but would stop if Rhys said the word. 

It would have been easier with some oil, but Rhys wouldn't ask for that. And Geralt wouldn't given it to him. So he made do with his own precum, smearing it down the shaft. He couldn't stop the quiet moans from his own touch, and he definitely couldn't stop the cries from Geralt's touch. Rhys was shaking all over, covered in a light sweat, and fought to not buck up into his own fist.

***

Geralt could smell the fear mixing with the salty tang of Rhys’ precum and satisfied something deep inside of him. He _needed_ Rhys to fear him again.

Pale skin shining with a layer of sweat and cock slicked with his own precum, Rhys worked to pleasure himself despite the way Geralt was squeezing his balls, eyes locked on Geralt’s. The sight made Geralt’s cock twitch in his leathers. And that wasn’t what Geralt wanted. He wanted to be in control. To force Rhys to come, begging for it to stop.

Not to have Rhys making him hard, that exotic body, dangerous and made weak at the same time, taking away Geralt’s decision about whether or not he wanted to be aroused.

Geralt kneaded Rhys balls harder, tugging them down, separating them in his sack and taking each one in a hand. Grip harsh as he rolled and pressed them, Geralt snarled at Rhys, “You’re not coming fast enough. You won’t get my cock!”

Laying down over Rhys’ lower body Geralt ringed one ball in his grasp and held it tightly. Flicking it with his other hand, he bit at Rhys’ hip, licked it and bit at it again, marking Rhys as his own. Blinking his eyes Geralt tried to clear his vision, tears of frustration gathering there. At least down here Rhys couldn’t see them, the tears mingling with his saliva. He would make Rhys his own again.

***

Right in the middle of his pain and terror, Rhys had to bite down on the urge to laugh. It would have been a spectacularly bad idea, but it was so gratifying to see how frustrated Geralt was. How he lost more and more control of himself, and of where this was going. 

_You won’t get my cock!_ It was such a desperate attempt at dominance, and it fell so flat. A flood of warmth washed away his fear and turned it into an ugly sort of joy at seeing Geralt falter and struggle. It went right down to his groin and Rhys lost himself in it.

Hips bucking up, he rutted into his hand, used the pain Geralt caused him to fall faster and harder and didn't try to hold on. He spilled himself with a shout, one hand grasping the chain between his shackles, neck arching back and eyes finally closed.

At the back of his mind, Rhys had a tinge of worry that Geralt might feel that humiliation cut for real, that it would bleed into reality. But he wasn't worried enough to stop, and he relied on Eskel who he was sure would see if this was really happening.

***

The shout and jerk of Rhys’ balls in his hand told Geralt he was there moments before the smell of cum struck his nose. Biting into Rhys’ hip hard Geralt shoved his hands away and stroked his cock. Rhys squirmed, trying to escape Geralt’s tormenting hand. 

Pushing up to look at Rhys’ face Geralt expected to see pain, terror, exhaustion— all he found was satisfaction. Everything in his body fell. Plummeting to the floor. He’d lost. Rhys was gone. Not his. Fuck it all. Geralt punched the bed right by Rhys’ head.

“Fuck you!” Geralt hauled him up off the bed by his shackles and dragged him back to his chain. Linked him back to it. “You can stay here, covered in your own cum if you’re so satisfied with yourself.”

Geralt stood back, wiping his hand on his mouth. Staring at Rhys with unbridled anger. He stooped to pick the gag up off the floor, waving it at Rhys. “I’ll be back for your mouth later. And I’ll finish what I started. Eskel won’t be here to save you next time.”

Striding out the door, gag in hand, Geralt slammed it behind him and leaned against the cool stone wall. He let the adrenaline flooding his body wash away. It went a little slower than usual. The scene had been particularly intense but he trusted that Eskel would take care of Rhys while he took care of himself for a moment.

Already he could hear hushed steps, the rattle of the chain and shackles as they came undone. Opening the door he walked back in to find Eskel and Rhys standing, gingerly slipping Rhys back into his braies for the trip upstairs. 

Geralt strode right up and wrapped Rhys in a huge hug, giggling. “Gods, you were wonderful. I wanted to _slap_ you.” Rhys hopped up and Geralt caught Rhys’ legs as they wound around his waist. Eskel’s hand settled on his back and they headed upstairs to the Ruby Room. There Geralt would let Eskel clean them both up, he would down some juice and curl up with them to nap.

***

Rhys held on to Geralt tightly and didn't let him get up after he had laid Rhys down on the bed. At least not for a bit. The laughter he had been keeping in broke free, and Geralt joined in. 

"You were so _angry_ and you lost so hard there, I could watch it happening. All that frustration and nowhere for it to go." Rhys snorted gave a last exhausted giggle. "I enjoyed that. A lot." 

He would have liked to talk about this some more, but a huge yawn was all he could do. With a kiss to Geralt's neck, Rhys rolled on his back, right into Eskel's hands who had come to clean him up.

"Let's talk about this later. I need sleep. And food, after. But fuck, that was good." Rhys closed his eyes and let Eskel take care of him. He barely registered Geralt coming to lay with him, nestling into him, and he was fast asleep by the time Eskel joined them.

TWO CHAPTER UPDATE!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content into:  
> con non con  
> con dub con  
> manipulation


	15. To Break Your Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The shackle on Rhys’ ankle came away easily. Eskel stood up and back to watch Rhys as he undressed. There were bruises. They were not small._  
>  _Eskel winced._  
>  Rhys and Eskel play and things go wrong. But Geralt and Rhys catch Eskel and make things right again.

Rhys blinked himself awake in the early morning light. It painted the Ruby Room in warm gold, making the polished floor gleam. Geralt was still curled in Rhys' arms, but stirred when Rhys sat up. Eskel wasn't around but before Rhys had time to wonder where he was, the door was pushed open and Eskel carried a tray inside.

"Breakfast! I love you, I hope you know that." Rhys was famished and only too happy to have breakfast in bed with his lovers. They all ate ravenously, and mostly in silence only interrupted by asking to pass this or that food item.

Hunger sated, Rhys leaned into Eskel and reached out to pet Geralt, lazily nibbling on a piece of dried pear. "So. Since we have no plans today, do you want to talk about where we're taking this play? A lot of things happened there."

He tipped his head back to look at Eskel. "And I would love to actually earn my bath from you. And talk to you while I have the bath. Because the prisoner feels that there's a lot to talk about - he's eager to use the situation for his purposes."

Geralt was scraping the bottom of his porridge bowl when he grinned, the amusement reaching his eyes. “A lot did happen there. My captor lost so badly and he is so pissed about it. The situation has slipped completely through his hands.” Nabbing a dried slice of pear for himself, Geralt held it up and spoke before engulfing the whole piece. “From the outside, it's hilarious. That’s why you don’t try to hold onto the things you want with a deathgrip.”

Humming to himself, Eskel stretched his arm behind Rhys to scratch in Geralt’s hair before pulling Rhys close. He was glad to see that the rough play and harsh words hadn’t dampened Geralt’s opinion of himself at all. It had been a worry in the back of Eskel’s mind, even though Geralt appeared good when they fell asleep last night. His emotions were tender and could sneak up on him at times without warning. Eskel was always watching.

“Your plan is startin’ to work, for Geralt’s captor at least.” Eskel reached his other hand out in front and Geralt handed him the empty wooden bowl. “It won’t work in the end, I won’t let it. ‘M aware that you would do anythin’ to escape, includin’ manipulate us an’ play us against each other. Geralt might have a hard time believin’ me when I try to tell him that at first.” The bowl joined the others on the nightstand.

“I might even think you’re only trying to distance me from the prisoner so you can have him all to yourself.” Geralt shifted and wrapped an arm around Rhys’ waist, resting his head on Rhys’ shoulder.

“I could see that yeah.” Petting Geralt’s arm, Eskel cuddled into both of them.

“Eventually, though, I’ll believe Eskel over some ork I kidnapped from the inn.” Geralt was mumbling with the way his jaw rested on Rhys.

“As for your bath. I would be up for acting that out, if you want. I’d bring you up here, maybe shackle your feet and give you dimeritrium wrist cuffs that aren’t chained together so you can move your hands.” Looking at Rhys, Eskel raised his eyebrows. “An’ if you want to talk much while you wash we can work that out in the moment.”

In a way Eskel was already letting that other version of himself scheme. If Rhys wanted to talk, he might have to earn it. Eskel wouldn’t mind a bath too after all. “If he wants an’ you don’ mind, Geralt can watch us from the corner, like downstairs. Pretend he’s not there.”

"Making Geralt jealous of the connection Eskel and I have, that is a huge part of the plan. And getting that bath, especially after what happened last night, fits perfectly into this. It is behind Geralt's back, and the captive will be all supportive of Eskel's opinion that he's the _nice_ one in this whole relationship." Rhys giggled with delight and nosed into Geralt's hair.

"If you want to watch, I'm fine with that. More than fine, actually. Do you want to do this now, just start up here? Because I would love to. I'm curious what will happen - and I really want a bath." Rhys caught Eskel's gaze, raised his eyebrows at him. He was excited for this and eager to start. All his usual patience was gone for the moment.

A little time later, the door fell shut behind Rhys and he blinked in the light. Daylight wasn't something he was used to any more, and for a moment he just stood and enjoyed it. Enjoyed being able to move without a chain, even though he was hobbled by a chain between his ankles. Enjoyed being in an actual _room_ , not a dark cellar, with smooth wooden floors beneath his naked feet. And enjoyed not being around Geralt, being treated vaguely like a person and not a thing.

Rhys took care not to make any sudden movements, especially with his hands. Eskel had taken the chain off of them and Rhys was able to move them at will for the first time in -weeks? Maybe months. He had lost track.

Turning to Eskel, Rhys made a slow gesture at the room. "Where do you want me?"

He was not about to take the initiative here. Not that he couldn't have, and he planned on maybe doing it later, but right now he wanted Eskel to be completely in charge. Rhys wanted to appear too frightened to make his own decisions. He had taken care to flinch a little, but not too much whenever Eskel came too close. But he had relaxed quickly every time, especially when Eskel touched him or talked to him. _I am scared, but not of you_ was the message he hoped to send.

“Bath first, then a hot meal?” Eskel squinted at Rhys. “You can have it the other way ‘round if you want but I ‘magine you’re… sore.” 

Motioning to the tub, Eskel tried very hard not to think about what might have happened after he’d left last night. Geralt being alone with his toy was not— ideal. Rhys followed him complacently. Clearly savoring this little bit of freedom but hesitant to take too much of it. At the tub Eskel gave him a solid look and then bent down. “I’ll remove one side so you can undress but then they go back on.”

The shackle on Rhys’ ankle came away easily. Eskel stood up and back to watch Rhys as he undressed. There were bruises. They were not small.

Eskel winced.

As soon as Rhys had pulled his braies off Eskel mechanically went about shackling his leg again. With Geralt treating him like that, no wonder he flinched again. Teeth marks adorned his hip and his balls looked slightly swollen. Added to that were the bruises on his knees from the stone floor.

Dipping his fingers in the water Eskel began to sign Igni heating it up to good temperature. He noticed Rhys was staring at him surprised, confusion clouding his face. “Don’t you want to make me come first? That was our deal.” 

“I want you clean.” There was no gruffness to the answer, Eskel did want Rhys clean. If he was going to have Rhys touch him and lay close enough to slip his fingers into Rhys and watch him bring himself off while he did it, Eskel didn’t want the stench of weeks in the cellar reminding his nose of how they got there.

“I know you’ll keep up your end of the deal. So bathe.” Approaching slowly, Eskel scooped Rhys up and brought him over the edge of the tub until his shackled feet dangled inside of it. Gently he let Rhys down inside the water until he stood on his own.

Eskel moved to the table but instead of taking up a post there like last time, Eskel took a chair and brought it next to the tub. He sat in it and relaxed back, crossing his ankles and letting his arm rest on the edge of the tub, fingers drifting in the water aimlessly.

While Eskel was carrying the chair over, Rhys looked up at Geralt who had retreated to a pile of cushions and blankets in a corner with a good view, nibbling on some dried fruit. Rhys grinned at him, wrapping his hair in a knot. His devotion to playacting only went so far and he wasn't about to do a whole scene with dripping wet hair again.

Sinking down into the tub and into his persona, Rhys gave a sigh as the hot water engulfed him up to his neck. For a while, he just rested and let the warmth seep into his muscles. He was acutely aware of Eskel's presence, of his hand moving in the water and making little waves that lapped up at Rhys' chin.

When the worst aches and soreness had been wicked away by the water, Rhys leaned forward and started to wash himself, scrubbing himself down with soap and a cloth. He worked quickly, as if afraid that they were going to be interrupted, and kept looking up at the door as if spooked by some noise.

Finally, Rhys drew his knees up and rested his arms on them, glancing up at Eskel. "Do you- I wouldn't mind if you joined me."

Head jerking up in surprise, Eskel looked at Rhys. "Huh?" Eskel's hand stilled in the water, gripping the side of the tub as he sat himself up from his slouch. "'M not like Geralt. Not gonna impose on your bath to fondle an' grab."

"We'll finish our deal on the bed. Like-" like what? Eskel thought to himself. They certainly weren't lovers. "-'s meant to be."

Eskel frowned. A hot bath did sound wonderful. He wouldn't lower himself to Geralt's behavior though. Rhys had already seen him act poorly enough. 

The thought that Eskel might smell fear on Rhys when he touched him later turned his stomach. That would ruin this all for him. He wouldn't even be able to get what he wanted from Rhys anymore if Rhys was afraid of him after what he'd seen.

"I know you are not like Geralt. That is why I asked you. Take it as an invitation. I haven't talked to anyone for a long time, and I would like to. And I would like to just be close to you, without it being about sex. I haven't had that in a long time either. Even before-- all of this." Rhys gave a small, brittle smile.

"And I trust you to not force me into anything I don't agree to. I know you will keep to our deal. Consider this a thing outside the agreement." He very slowly and carefully touched Eskel's arm, ran his fingertips over the skin, leaving behind waterdrops.

Desire curled in the pit of Eskel's stomach. Not the hungry kind that made him want to pull Geralt into bed but the needy kind. The kind that made him want to stretch out on that bed and hold someone close. Or _be_ held.

Eskel studied Rhys' face for a long time. There was no smell of fear, and surprisingly no hint of deceit either.

The gentle touch of Rhys' hand on his arm was hot. Skin warmed by the water. Eskel willfully chose to ignore the dimeritium circling his wrist. It was simply necessary. Nothing more. His hands were free after all.

"Alright." Sighing and standing, Eskel stood and stripped out of his armor. Piling it piece by piece on the chair before stepping over the high side of the tub.

Eskel chose to sit next to Rhys, close but not touching, between Rhys and the door. He wasn't that stupid. The hot water did feel glorious though. Eskel was tempted to soap up, but for now he was content to just sit.

"Not many people wanna talk to a witcher, so I might not be the best at this." Simple conversation for the sake of it was not something Eskel was used to. At the back of his mind something niggled. That _no one_ talked to a witcher unless they wanted something, and he wondered if that wasn't true for Rhys too. But for now he ignored it, set on enjoying his moment.

Rhys' heart sped up at the sudden closeness, but that was fine - Eskel could read that as excitement as much as fear if it suited him. And Rhys himself wasn't quite sure what is was himself.

"May I touch you?" He kept his voice low, but didn't drop his gaze.

Eskel turned to him and looked at him for so long that Rhys almost started to squirm. Wondering what he was playing at, maybe. "Only if you really wanna do that."

Moving slowly, Rhys touched the big scar on Eskel's shoulder. Let his fingers wander down his arm to the water, tracing more scars and followed them across Eskel's chest. He kept well away from Eskel's nipples, this wasn't meant to excite. It was meant to be gentle and soft, a curious touch.

"Most people only want to talk to me because I'm a rarity and they are curious. Or they throw stones at me because they don't know what I am and are afraid I will steal away their children." Rhys moved so he could touch Eskel's other arm, getting up on his knees to do it. It made waves in the tub and a little water sloshed over the rim.

He ran his palm down the arm, stopping at a particularly big scar that looked like something with vicious teeth had tried its best to tear off the arm. "What did this?"

"Ekhidna." After a long stretch of silence where it was clear Rhys was waiting for more Eskel spoke. "Attacked me from the air while I was sailin' off the coast of An Skellig. Nearly dumped me in the ocean."

Eskel looked up at Rhys with some curiosity. In reality, he knew very little about Rhys. Who he was and what he did before Geralt had brought him to stay with them. "Ever seen one of those? They're like a kind of siren, only bigger an' bitchier."

***

"I haven't been to Skellige, but I have seen Sirens in books, drawn by people who have seen them. I like reading." Rhys studied the scar for a bit longer before moving on.

He touched one on Eskel's side, followed it below the surface of the water to where it ended on his stomach. "I have heard stories about witchers, and I've read about them. I was curious but I hadn't thought I'd meet any. There are not many of you left. More than orks, but still, you are among the last of your kind."

Taking note of the comment about reading Eskel wondered if Rhys might like some books. Another thing he could use as a bargaining chip if he needed, or wanted. Eskel wanted a lot.

The hand touching his side delved below the water and Eskel tensed his stomach instinctively. Rhys had sworn this was outside their deal. Eskel was sure that meant no sex but Rhys’ hands were wandering. In the end though Rhys’ hand didn’t wander far. Just along the long line of scar left by a blade. 

“The only monster that left that one was a man. Soldiers turned bandits. They’d set up camp an’ were ambushin’ travelers on the road. I was a traveler.” Eskel brought his hands out of the water and laid his arms along the edge of the tub. Having decided Rhys wasn’t going to try to cop a feel and change their deal, he allowed himself to relax— at least about that. “Killed them all, but one got in a good slice. Not too big a deal, I heal fast. It looks worse ‘an it was.”

For a while Rhys swirled his hands in the water, apparently enjoying their freedom. Then he reached up to Eskel’s exposed forearm and ran his fingers over a set of three parallel claw marks.

“Nekker. They show up where a lot of dead bodies aren’t… dealt with properly.” Sighing, Eskel gave in to the desire to wash. He made a point to move slowly, not interested in spooking Rhys now. It was actually _nice_ , Rhys was right, to just talk to a person. Eskel didn’t get to do that much either, and he didn’t really want to stop Rhys from continuing it.

Locating the cloth floating in the water, Eskel took the soap from a copper tray hanging over the side and started to lather it. “I doubt you’ve read much good ‘bout witchers. No one’s writin’ anything pleasant ‘bout us. They’d like to see us all dead mostly. Books about monsters though, some of those are _very_ interestin’. I’ve prolly read ‘em all. Alchemy too.”

"You're right, witchers were usually not shown in a good light. A necessary evil at best." Rhys kept his tone neutral. 

He held out his hand for the washcloth. "Let me. At least your back and your arms." Eskel stared hard at him, completely still for a moment, and Rhys feared he had gone too far, but then Eskel handed the washcloth over. Turning sideways, he let Rhys see his back, while still keeping an eye on him.

Rhys moved slowly, soaping up Eskel's back and gentle massaging the skin with his fingers. He took his time and let Eskel enjoy it for a while. From the way Eskel's eyes fell half closed and his gradually relaxing posture, Rhys thought that he did enjoy this a lot. He was willing to bet that Geralt didn't do that for him. 

"You are worried that I'm afraid of you after what happened yesterday." It wasn't a question. Eskel tensed up under Rhys' hands, but Rhys didn't stop washing him, tracing soothing circles in the soap suds. 

"You don't need to be. I trust you not to go against our agreements, and not to do anything to me I don't allow you. I didn't get the impression that you went against Geralt's wishes either. That is what he wants from you." Rhys fell silent, waiting for Eskel's reaction. He needed to know if he was on the right track.

This was a rather risky limb for Rhys to step out on and having done so made Eskel acutely aware that he was likely seeking _something_. Information, more freedoms, or something more sinister. Too much information or freedom alone could be sinister after all. 

There was a reason Eskel preferred Rhys' hands free rather than give him a longer chain. Not only did it make Eskel feel better about what he was doing here, it eliminated a possible weapon for Rhys.

"That is a bold assumption." Eskel sighed, aware Rhys could sense at least a certain amount of his mood having changed. "You're right though. I do not enjoy your fear, an' I worry what you saw will change how you react to me now."

Eskel shrugged. "As for Geralt, jus' 'cause he wants it doesn't mean I do." Leaving it at that Eskel tried to relax back into the comforting touch of Rhys' hands as they worked around his arm. Tension bleeding out of him the longer Rhys' fingers played over his skin _willingly_. There was no deal here and that struck a warm fire in Eskel's soul.

"Why bring that up? I can't change what you've seen of me. Neither can you. What do you aim to gain here?" It itched at him and Eskel couldn't let it go.

"I bring that up because I appreciate what we have here. And there's no point in you worrying about me being afraid of you for what I've seen yesterday. I admit, this is a little self serving." Rhys shrugged and scooped up water in his hands to rinse the soap off Eskel's back.

"It's not hard to guess that I don't want to lose these— amenities. So that is one thing I hope to gain, or hope to keep by having clarity here." He ran a palm down Eskel's back, chasing the last of the soap.

Scooping up more water, he rinsed off Eskel's arms. "And the other thing is that I honestly enjoy your company. Of course, you are my only company at the moment. So I'm biased. But I think I would enjoy it even under other circumstances. Which you can believe or not, I have no way of proving that to you."

There was some honesty in Rhys’ reply and Eskel could tell. That it was self-serving, that he didn’t want to lose the freedoms he traded Eskel for. Those were easily believable. Even that with no other company available Rhys had come to enjoy his, Eskel could believe. But that Rhys would have enjoyed his company if they had simply met somewhere else, in an inn? That was a hard stale biscuit to swallow.

“‘M not gonna take away the things we deal for. I won’t lie. I enjoy our agreements. An’ I see no reason to treat you so poorly you’re lookin’ for every chance to stab me. If Geralt wants to take that risk, that’s his deal.” Eskel turned to look at Rhys, keeping his face unreadable. “Not that I won’t kill you if you stab him.” As if he hadn’t said it at all, Eskel turned back and let Rhys finish rinsing him off.

“I’d like to think ‘m better company than no one. Glad you agree.” Eskel smirked to himself. “You’d have had to’ve been quite the black sheep before this to have enjoyed my company under other circumstances though I think.” Now that Rhys had finished, Eskel took the rag and soap from him.

Intent on scrubbing his chest, Eskel paid Rhys little mind. He was shackled by his ankles in a tub and couldn’t get out without Eskel’s assistance, he wasn’t running anywhere. Without really thinking, Eskel stood and soaped his groin and legs before sitting back down to rinse off. Only afterwards did he stop to think that Rhys had gotten a plentiful view of not just his cock but his ass as well when he bent over.

Eskel let the cloth float away and sighed, more a relaxed sound than a weary one now. He was glad he’d joined Rhys now. The hot water and conversation had actually done him good. Perhaps now he could actually enjoy the other half of the deal. His half. He wouldn’t rush Rhys though, Geralt was gone for the day on a contract and they had time.

Rhys leaned one arm on the edge of the tub, his chin resting on it, and watched Eskel. He laughed softly, genuinely amused 

"Maybe I am a black sheep, how would you know. I'm not some innocent farmer who got snatched on his first trip to the big city. And I'm not - let's say I have flexible morals." He shrugged and turned serious.

"You can take or leave this, I'm not out to convince you. Our arrangement works well enough without all that. But I've had time to watch you both, and I've seen what you do when you have someone completely at your mercy. That's quite enlightening. Do you want to know what I think drives you? It might not be pleasant to hear though." His usual soft tone had a glint of steel in it. A challenge.

_Snatched_. The word grated at Eskel's ears and frayed the fantasy for him. How willing could Rhys really be when he was _snatched_. Clenching his jaw Eskel pushed hard at the reminder, shoving it away and willing his anger down.

"Enlighten me." Eskel's voice was dry, but there was a hint of humor to it. "If you're willing to risk pissing me off before I touch you."

In a way, Eskel didn't want to know. Didn't want to be angered and have the prospect of a soft sweet time in bed with Rhys ruined. And in a way he couldn't resist the challenge. He could feel his gentle time with Rhys in a real bed slipping through his hands and he wanted to grab onto it. But hold too hard and surely it would break, so he risked letting it be, like this.

"I think you can take it." Rhys knew very well he was on thin ice, but he couldn't resist pushing and he had some hopes it would pay off. More than pushing Geralt ever would.

He sat up straight, water sloshing around him and running in little waves around the tub, breaking against Eskel. The cloth floundered and sank, taking soapy suds with it.

"I think you are lonely. You clearly have feelings for Geralt, or you wouldn't stay around. Whether that is because you are both witchers and that ties you together, or whether it's something more I cannot tell. But being the only ones of your kind is a powerful thing, that I know."

"You are also not a friend of violence for its own sake. You might kill, but you don't murder. And you tolerate what Geralt does, but badly. You would much prefer if he came to you for what he needs, but your needs don't line up well. Because what you want is someone who is willing. Who asks for what you have to give. And Geralt wants a fight. One he wants you to win, but it's tiring to fight battles you don't _want_ to fight." Rhys didn't look away from Eskel, but it wasn't the frightened stare Geralt had beaten into him, always checking for danger. He didn't aim to hurt with his words, but he also didn't sugarcoat anything. If Eskel wanted to punish him for this, then he would. Right now, Rhys found he didn't care.

"So you keep looking for other ways to get what you want. What you need. It's not exactly easy to find, with how the world sees and treats witchers. You would like someone who doesn't poke and prod at you until you lose control. Who you can be gentle with and who trusts you, and who is gentle with you." Rhys spread his hands open and fell silent.

"You're right. I don't enjoy being poked an' prodded at. With displays of violence, or with words an' assumptions." Leveling a harsh look at Rhys, Eskel stood and stepped out of the tub. 

"Fighting is work an' I don' wanna hafta to work for intimacy. I only touch a willing partner, you already know that. I hate being forced to force someone." Eskel stared at Rhys as he dried off. Some of the anger of his initial response falling away. He still wanted Rhys willing and soft.

"You have time. Lemme know when you're ready to get out." Instead of getting dressed Eskel carried his armor over to the bed and laid on top.

Rhys only nodded and stayed silent. It was better if he left Eskel alone for a bit, didn't push any harder. This was far enough, and he was sure Eskel would find it hard to forget what Rhys had said. But he would also find it hard to stay away, Rhys was confident in that. 

Closing his eyes, Rhys leaned back and kept his thoughts to himself. Until the water had cooled so much it was becoming less pleasant.

"Would you help me get out of the tub?" Rhys knelt, not yet standing up. "If you still want to go through with our agreement. I didn't mean to hurt you. If you'd rather bring me back downstairs, I understand. But I hope you won't because I was looking forward to this. All of it."

"You _were_ looking forward to all of this. But not now." There was some real venom in the way Eskel threw the word at Rhys. Rolling off the bed he grabbed the bath sheet he'd dried off with and tied it about his waist.

Standing right in front of Rhys at the edge of the tub Eskel looked him in the eye. "You can have your hot meal, an' we can go back downstairs. I still won't lie, I do wanna take you over to that bed. Touch you in a way that'd be so good it makes you shake. But I want it willingly an' 'm not sure you are now."

Taking hold of Rhys carefully Eskel scooped him back up and lifted him over the edge. "What you said didn't hurt me. It jus' reminded me that you aren't offering me this freely. So, no more deals. You want to touch me or be touched? You'll have to ask."

Without another word Eskel held out a bath sheet to Rhys to dry off with. If he wanted the shackles opened to dress he could ask. Eskel was tired.

Rhys took the towel, dried himself off and folded it to put it over the chair next to the tub. Tugging the leather stop holding his hair loose, he let it fall over his shoulders. He stood without hiding himself, looked at Eskel with his head to one side.

"I'll take the hot meal. After you have made me come. Not as part of a deal, or as payment. I told you that I thought I would enjoy it, that hasn't changed." He gave a sigh, reached out and dropped his hand before touching Eskel. 

"But I can understand if you are not in the mood. To touch or be touched." Rhys brushed a strand of hair out of his face. "This is hard. I don't know what to tell you, if you don't believe me when I say I'm offering this willingly. Sure, it was part of a deal, but I didn't get forced into that deal."

Rhys sat on the edge of the tub, looking up at Eskel. " You have been good to me, and you didn't need to."

Reaching out Eskel touched Rhys’ face, hesitantly at first, then when Rhys didn’t shy away, Eskel pushed his fingers into Rhys’ hair and let his hand cup the side of Rhys’ head. “I’ve tried to treat you like a person, tha’s all. You’re not a dog. You deserved to be treated with some basic care. We all do. I can’t change how people treat me, but I sure as Hells can control how I treat others.”

Shrugging Eskel let his hand fall away. He wanted to touch Rhys as long as Rhys still wanted it. Deep down he was sure he knew now why Rhys had talked to him, invited him into the tub. Sure it was partly that he was starved for human interaction that wasn’t terrifying, but he had also been fishing, casting a line. To see if there was a rift to exploit between Eskel and Geralt.

Eskel suspected that if there was any way Rhys could use him to hurt Geralt, physically or emotionally, he would go for the throat. There wasn’t, not like Rhys thought there was. Geralt might get jealous of Eskel enjoying time with Rhys alone, but not in a way Eskel couldn’t settle him down with a few words and a rough fuck.

“If you’re willing, an’ you still wanna let me pleasure you, I will, but first these have to come off.” Eskel unlocked the shackles around Rhys’ ankles. As long as they were they were there, Rhys couldn’t be willing. If he ran for the door Eskel would have his answer loud and clear. 

Cocking his head back at Rhys, Eskel tried to let a smile play on his lips; he didn’t know if it won out over the sadness he had inside or not. “Come to bed with me? I want this to be good for you, you tell me what you like.”

Rhys cupped Eskel's face in his hand and let his breath out in a long sigh. Closed his eyes for a moment and pulled himself back into reality.

"Novigrad. Let's end this here, please." He smiled down at Eskel, still on one knee in front of him. "I'm fine, but this is starting to bleed into real life too much for you. I can tell, back when you got out of the tub? We could continue but it doesn't feel right to me. I think I want cuddles. From both of you. And then we can talk. How does that sound?"

“I-” Eskel could only stare hard at the floor, hands frozen in time. Unsure what had just happened. “We’ll stop. ‘M sorry, jus’ gimme a second an’ I’ll get you outta those cuffs.” Turning his head in Rhys’ hand Eskel gave it a soft kiss, then dropped down to both knees and wrapped his arms around Rhys’ legs in a hug.

Taking a few slow breaths, Eskel tried to figure out why Rhys had put a stop to things. Rhys said he was fine, but obviously he wasn’t or he wouldn’t have used his safeword and asked for a cuddle. The worst part was that he’d said it was too much for Eskel. Like Eskel couldn’t handle what they were playing with. It stung. Of course it was emotional, and this scene in particular had gone places he hadn’t expected or been prepared for. Touching so close to home it almost made him uncomfortable in his skin but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have dealt with it if Rhys just gave him _time_.

Noise above his head caught Eskel’s attention and he looked up to find Geralt already removing the dimeritrium from Rhys’ wrists. Eskel stood up, and immediately took a seat in the chair next to the tub. Hands folded together and elbows on his knees, Eskel stared at the floor. “‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like we couldn’t continue by getting out of the tub, ‘s jus’ that your persona pissed mine off an’ I wasn’t sure how to handle all that anger at the same time that I did want to touch you. I jus’ needed a bit was all.”

"I know we could have continued. But that doesn't mean we should." Rhys waited until Geralt had freed him of cuffs and shackles before kneeling on the floor in front of Eskel. He took Eskel's hands in his, caressing them with his thumb.

"There's nothing to apologize for. We're playing with things that are very close to reality for all of us. Sometimes it's better to take a break, and look at what happened in the scene from outside. I just don't want you to get hurt by what we do." Reaching up, Rhys took one of Geralt's hands and gave a tug on Eskel's. "Come to bed with us? Give yourself some time to let everything settle."

Rhys was sure now he had made the right decision, even if Eskel didn't see it yet. But Rhys didn't need astral senses to see the turmoil of emotions that was roiling under the surface. And he hoped Eskel wouldn't try to ignore it.

Even if Rhys didn’t know exactly what was going on, and even if Eskel was loath to admit it out loud or unable to, Geralt could _see_ what chord had been struck with Eskel that he couldn’t unstrike now. Geralt wanted to hold Eskel and tell him that it was alright, that he didn’t hold it against him. Remind Eskel that he’d forgiven him for his anger, and his choices. But Geralt was sure right now that wasn’t anything Eskel wanted to hear. Later maybe when Eskel wasn’t so lost.

Right now, what he could do was take a hand with Rhys and guide Eskel to the bed. Keep him from giving into the urge Geralt was sure Eskel had to shove this all down and hide it away. Lock it up and show no one. 

When Geralt was hurting, the world knew. It was how he was. But Eskel had never been like that. When Eskel was hurting, no one would know except maybe Geralt. And now Rhys. Geralt hoped Eskel would be able to let his wounds be visible with both of them there as overwhelming as it might seem.

Geralt stepped ahead and pulled the covers back on the bed, letting first Rhys and then Eskel climb in before he stripped off his clothes and followed them in. Spooning right up behind Eskel’s back, Geralt wrapped an arm low around his waist and ran his fingers up through Eskel’s hair, ruffling it so he could kiss the base of his skull. “I love you.”

Huffing, half in annoyance at being treated so politely all of a sudden, Eskel closed his eyes. “Love you too. Both of you.” Frustration settled deep in Eskel’s gut. Not only had they not finished the scene but now everyone seemed intent on treating him like he needed a hug. Which he didn’t. He was fine. It was just that when Rhys’ persona had pissed off his own he hadn’t been sure how to move forward.

Everything had felt very real. He’d been angry but still wanted Rhys, and yet it was clear in his mind that Rhys wasn’t capable of consenting even if he was adamantly saying yes. So he’d said no. To it all. Only to be offered it again, and it wore him down. And down. Just like being around Geralt for years and years when he couldn’t have him had.

Squeezing his eyes shut tighter Eskel took a shaky breath as the enormity of the closeness to life hit him. _Just like Geralt_. In so many ways the scene they had played out had morphed into exactly the way Eskel had taken what he wanted from Geralt at a time when Eskel had been nursing years of painful anger and Geralt had been incapable of truly consenting. And it had very nearly ended the same way— with Eskel getting what he wanted, consequences be damned.

Eskel exhaled slowly, trying not to cry. “Fuck, I jus’ don’ know how to do this.” A quiet sniffle was the only signal that he was still breathing. “‘M gonna fuck it up every time. ‘Cause tha’s jus me.” 

As the emotions rolled over him, crushing Eskel with their weight, his breathing got heavy, but he refused to open his eyes, afraid of what he might see in theirs. “All I wanted was a scene where we traded a bath for sex an’ I can’t even do that right.”

Rhys placed a kiss on Eskel's jaw, wound a hand into his hair and pressed their foreheads together. "You did not fuck up, and there's no _right_ way to do this. We all went into this knowing this might touch upon things in real life, and we talked about this. We trusted each other to catch me if I had a freak out during a scene. It's not different because it's you and not me. You're not invincible."

With his other arm thrown across Eskel to touch Geralt, Rhys nestled closer into Eskel. "So please, let us catch you. Don't try to fight this, or to just push it all away. That would come back to bite us later. We can handle this, together."

Petting Eskel’s side, Geralt ran a hand down his flank and over his hip. Slow soothing strokes. “I know it can be hard for you to tell when something is too much emotionally for you to push through, and we were taught to push through everything, but that’s not— good for us. It’s not your fault for not seeing it coming. That’s why Rhys stopped. To help you see what he saw, is all.”

Rubbing his nose along the back of Eskel’s neck Geralt kept his voice low, barely above a whisper. “And I don’t think Rhys is upset with you at all because of that. He wants you— we want you to feel safe exploring this with us. You’ve done so much to keep us safe.” Geralt kissed the nape of Eskels neck.

Rhys’ fingers tugged in his hair and Geralt’s hot breath ghosted over the base of Eskel’s neck. “Of course I’m not upset.” Rhys’ hand joined Geralt’s in petting Eskel. 

Hiccupping, Eskel tried to calm himself back down. He wrapped his arms around Rhys and pulled him as close as he possibly could, face shoved in the crook of Rhys’ neck. It was hot and sweaty in between Geralt and Rhys but Eskel didn’t care. If they let him go right now, he was sure he would fall apart into pieces.

“I- I don’ really know what I want. I need some time is all. I don’ like how I feel when I wanna hurt you like that. ‘S not like when it’s me an’ you an’ you’re sassy an’ I get aggressive. That’s _different_. It’s so obvious you want it then. Here it’s not clear. It’s ugly an’ it makes me feel ugly.” Eskel took a deep breath in and shook when he let it out. “I don’ wanna be an ugly man who does ugly things. Even if ‘s not real.”

Every breath came hard, and Eskel had to fight and win just to get each one in and out without sobbing. Eventually they came easier, and the nausea that had speared his stomach faded away. It helped to concentrate on the gentle touches of Rhys and Geralt. Squeezes in his hair, strokes down his side, soft kisses on his forehead and neck. Each and every one reminding Eskel that he was loved. Even if he wasn’t perfect. Even if he could be violent when pushed wrong. Despite the things he’d done in the past. Geralt was still there behind him holding him steady. And Rhys in front of him wasn't running away.

They held Eskel until the tears didn’t come anymore. He had no idea how long it had been and he really didn’t care. All Eskel had wanted was that easy-going tender kind of sex they almost always had after a hard scene. He’d thought that was the kind of sex his extra scene with Rhys would lead to, but then it had all fallen apart. Eskel’s body still craved the indulgence of those touches— so full of love and passion— but what they did now was helping to fill the gaping hole.

Rhys wiped away Eskel's tears and left the bed for a moment to get them something to drink. Because he was thirsty, because he thought Eskel needed it and because it would break the tension a little.

Sitting up in bed, Rhys took the empty mug back from Eskel and then let him nestle up again, hiding away in Rhys' arms, with Geralt on his other side. "I didn't mean to push you into this. I couldn't resist the temptation to pick this whole situation apart, and my persona was angry, too. He has to keep this illusion alive, of doing things by choice he only does because he has no other choice." 

He drew a pattern on Eskel's back, between his shoulder blades, going back and forth over it. "I think we should change track, move this forward faster than we planned. You don't need to decide now, we have time. But I have a suggestion where it could go, especially after what happened in the last two scenes."

"If we hadn't stopped, I, or rather my persona, would have asked you to take me to bed and be gentle with me, give me slow and soft sex as comfort. It's something I really miss and can get only from you. Just like you can get it only from me. And Geralt lost control over me last time." Rhys had settled into storytelling mode, the lilt in his voice coming to the forefront like it always did when he planned out loud like this.

"And so we might well end up with Eskel claiming me for himself. Geralt can always find someone else to play with, but out of all his toys I am the only one to give _Eskel_ what he needs. Since I'm not exactly the most decent person, and I'm lonely and the protection of a witcher is a good thing to have, I would eventually stay on my own free will. Eskel and I have a sort of kinship, even now. It would mean that Geralt is the loser in all of this." 

Rhys opened his hands palm up like setting free a bird. "I can see this working, but we all need to agree on this. I would very much like to continue playing with these characters, and I want all three of us involved. If you two need time to think it over, I'm fine with that. Or with other suggestions."

Eskel leaned up against Rhys but his arms hugged himself as Rhys spoke and he nodded along. Geralt knew the posture well. Eskel didn't have his knees up, he wasn't guarding himself but he clearly missed the closeness the cuddling had offered.

It was a problem Geralt could easily fix. Straddling Eskel's lap, Geralt pushed a knee between Rhys and him. Laying himself up along Eskel's chest Geralt rested his head on Eskel's shoulder to look at Rhys. Automatically Eskel's arms engulfed Geralt and squeezed.

"I would be happy to lose. Kidnapper Geralt will be _livid_ , but he'd never go against Eskel's wishes. I think it's great that my person gets shit on for being such a violent, demanding asshole." Geralt loosed a genuine snicker at the idea. 

Tipping his head up Geralt peered at Eskel. "What do you think? Or do you want time to mull it over?"

"I think," Eskel's voice rumbled in his chest before continuing, "that I don't wanna stop playin' with the two of you an' this. I like the idea of claiming Rhys an' gettin' what I need from him as a character. That softness an' willingness."

"Meant a lot to me that you both made me feel comfortable even joining in to start with an' I don' wanna give that up. But I don't ever wanna feel like I am playing a rapist again either. A bad person, that's fine, but not a rapist. An' that's exactly how I felt as soon as you said you were snatched. The whole thing tilted for me right then."

Rubbing his hands up and down Geralt’s back, the weight of Geralt pressing up against him, gave Eskel a sense of security even now in talking about this. It made it easier to think and say what he thought without his emotions reeling out of control again. The smoothness of Geralt’s hair close to Eskel’s mouth where he could rub his cheek on it, the scent of his blade oil, all of it helped.

Looking over at Rhys, Eskel reached out and took one of his hands holding it in his own. “I’d love it if your character really wanted me, enough to stay of his own free will. If that didn’t hafta be an illusion for him. It would be enough for me to force Geralt’s not to hurt him.”

Rhys grinned at Geralt. "You are going to regret ever abducting that particular ork from the tavern, because he's maybe not as fucked up as you are, but he's certainly not _nice_."

"There's one scene I would really love to do before we take things there, just between Geralt and me. I would love for him to walk in on me masturbating. Because that would give us one more chance for really hard play, for you to humiliate me." Rhys raised an eyebrow at Geralt, and got a broad grin back. 

Leaning in to kiss Geralt, and then Eskel, Rhys ran his palm down Geralt's back. "Let's discuss that later. Because I don't know about you but I would really like more cuddles." 

He cupped Eskel's face in his hands, thumb tracing the scars. "You were promised slow, soft sex, do you still want that?"

Taking a moment to actually assess himself for once, Eskel took stock. He felt overfull, too stuffed with emotions and no way to let them out. Letting go was something Eskel was never good at. The prospect of gentle sex with them and a release there was very tempting.

“I think I need it actually.” Eskel was acutely aware these were words that he almost never used. If ever. He wasn’t sure he’d ever actually said he needed anything sexually with Geralt before in all their years. “I jus’- I expected some kind of chance to let go. I still want that.”

Geralt perked up, sitting back looked Eskel in the eyes. “I’d love to help you let go right now. And Rhys is here.” Wrapping his arms around Eskel’s neck and coming forward to speak right in Eskel’s ear Geralt dropped his voice. “Which means I want to give you that thing you always crave and never get. I want to fuck you. Please. Take this and just lose yourself for me?”

There was a moment of tension from Eskel in his arms and Geralt squeezed him tightly. “You know Rhys will catch you. Let me give you what you want.” 

The tension bled away and Eskel hugged Geralt. “Alright.”

Rhys was absurdly proud to hear Eskel actually admit that he _needed_ something, and to see Geralt ready to give it to him. They had worked hard to get this far.

Pushing cushions and the blanket to the side, Rhys lay down and held out his arms to Eskel. "Come join me?"

He had expected Eskel to roll over on his stomach, maybe on his side to nestle into Rhys, but Eskel surprised him again by staying on his back. Rhys trailed a hand down Eskel's chest to the hairs on his stomach, gently pulling on them. Propped up on one elbow, Rhys leaned down to kiss Eskel. 

With his open hair falling over one shoulder, Rhys let it drag over Eskel's chest and stomach, heavy silken strands curling and falling away to the side as Rhys kissed a trail down to Eskel's cock. He licked from the tip to the shaft and wrapped his hair around it. It unfurled when Rhys slowly sat up to kiss Geralt who was kneeling between Eskel's legs.

Reaching down, Rhys walked his fingers up Geralt's thighs, closed them around his cock and gave it a few leisurely strokes, muffling Geralt's moan with another kiss. "Let me touch you two together."

He grabbed the oil from the nightstand and when he turned back, Geralt was slowly rubbing his cock along Eskel's. Rhys poured some oil into his palm and took them in hand, slicking them up with long strokes from base to tip. They were hot against his palm, pulsing softly with their heartbeats. Rhys squeezed them together the slightest bit, swirling two fingers from his free hand over the tips.

Geralt sucked his lower lip in and bit it. The touch of Rhys’ hand and the heat of Eskel’s cock velvety skin rubbing along his own was amazing. Eskel’s legs were splayed over his thighs this way and Geralt pressed up close as he thrust gently into Rhys’ grip. Balls rolling over Eskel’s, Geralt groaned and gasped.

Reaching out, Geralt ran one hand along Rhys’ thigh. The other rested up on Eskel’s chest, right over his sternum. Geralt watched Rhys softly tease the trail of hair leading down to Eskel’s cock with his free hand then bring it back to tease at the heads of their cocks again. Rhys fingertips making Geralt shudder and jerk his hips at the contact, while Eskel stared up blankly at the ceiling and sucked in a long breath.

Looking but not really seeing, Eskel registered all the sensations of hands and fingers, touches of his lovers. He wasn’t really sure what possessed him to lay in his back next to Rhys instead of on his stomach or facing Rhys like he usually would, but it left him open. He let Rhys take him like this sometimes, but never Geralt. He never let Geralt take him, period. Geralt had never wanted to and even now, when he did, Eskel was never really sure how to accept it even though Geralt was right— he craved it.

Maybe because Geralt had asked Eskel to lose himself. This was the fastest way there. A shove down that hill. 

Eskel sucked in a deep breath and held it. Rhys’ hand was stroking them together, the other one teasing the head of his cock and already Eskel was feeling his ability to hold on slipping away. He stretched his arms above his head and pressed his hands against the headboard. Something real to feel, solid under his hands.

When Rhys’ slick hand wandered back, away from Eskel’s cock and behind his balls over his entrance, Eskel planted his feet on either side of Geralt behind his thighs, pushing up. Raising his ass and asking for what he wanted. 

The air ran out of his lungs and Eskel whimpered. Geralt’s hand took his cock, fingers and thumb teasing up it just the way Eskel liked and Eskel rocked his hips into it. Trying desperately to get more. More touch from Geralt, more from Rhys. Anything to soothe the ache inside and let it out.

Nudging Geralt out of the way a little so he didn't have to twist his wrist even more, Rhys poured some more oil on his finger and teased Eskel's hole before pushing in. With Eskel raising his hips, his finger went in easily and Rhys fucked into him while running the palm of his other hand over Eskel's thigh, just barely brushing over the hairs there.

It made Eskel squirm and whine, and Rhys wanted to let him have what he was asking for. He pulled out and Geralt moved closer eagerly, let Rhys slick up his cock and set it against Eskel. Rhys kept his fingers around Geralt's cock while he entered Eskel, letting Geralt's cock slip slowly through his fingers. Took them away to allow Geralt to push in all the way while Rhys lay down with Eskel.

Rhys propped himself up on one elbow again and reached down to slowly tease Eskel's cock, stroking it lightly with his fingers, up and down the shaft. He lay close enough that Eskel could hide his face against him if he wanted, and Rhys bent down to kiss him.

It was so much easier with Rhys there. His hand stroking oil onto Geralt’s cock, wordlessly encouraging Geralt to give Eskel everything he wanted to. Watching Rhys’ finger slip effortlessly into Eskel, and the way Eskel clenched and whined in need with it made the tip of Geralt’s cock throb with want.

Gods it was erotic, and Geralt wanted to give Eskel those things too. Make him utter those noises and writhe in pleasure like that from his own touches. Shuffling forward on his knees, Geralt let the head of his cock brush Eske’sl hole. It was hot and slick with oil and Geralt couldn’t resist the urge to press into it, grabbing Eskel’s thighs where they laid over his own. 

With Rhys’ fingers gliding over his cock, Geralt slid through his grip and into Eskel. It was so much, so good, hot and tight, loosening with every deep pulse that rolled through Eskel’s body. Geralt waited, watching Eskel as he pushed with his hands forcing himself all the way down onto Geralt’s cock and holding himself there while he breathed deep. Fuck, he was gorgeous.

When Eskel’s body had settled around him, Geralt ran his hands up Eskel’s thighs, a barely there graze, to his hips, and took hold of his waist. With a slow roll of his hips, Geralt pulled himself out and slid home again. Gentle short thrusts letting Eskel have what he needed.

Blinking up at the ceiling Eskel didn’t try to control himself. He let the pleasure pull him down and away, a strong current dragging him under the water until it surrounded him and he lost track of his body. The water filled his lungs, sputtering and struggling, Eskel found he could still breathe. It flowed in and out of his body, it was everywhere and he was nowhere.

Geralt pressed against his entrance and Eskel pushed back. Taking what he needed and gulping the water down until he was full. Geralt reached deep inside, opening Eskel in ways no one else did. Like touching a bruise. It both hurt and felt good.

The burn eased and the pleasure took over, Geralt rocking into Eskel slowly. Hands holding his hips and guiding Eskel home. Another hand, fingers tracing the shaft of his cock where it lay thick and hard on his belly. Eskel couldn’t stop the sounds bubbling out of him, moans and whimpers, soft cries and breaths catching in his throat. He didn’t want to.

Eskel _needed_ this. To let the emotion tumble out and be replaced with comfort. A tear rolled down the side of his face. It left a cold wet trail when the air hit its path. Eskel gulped and clamped his mouth shut, a deep thrust from Geralt striking him just right and sending a shiver up his spine. Sucking in air through his nose, the smell of Geralt and Rhys was stark. Spices, and blade oil--safety.

Blinking away a few more tears Eskel turned to look at Rhys, really seeing him. The fascination in his eyes, the soft open ‘o’ of his lips as he watched. Eskel put a hand to Rhys’ face, drawing him in for a kiss. It stole his air and made him dizzy. Cock aching and leaking when he turned back his mouth was taken by Geralt, leaning over him. Thrusts still slow and gentle. Pushing Eskel inexorably to the edge.

Rhys kissed away the single tear on Eskel's face, and gently pushed his arm under Eskel's head so he could nestle closer into him. He watched Geralt, crouched over Eskel and rolling his hips at a leisurely pace. Keeping the same rhythm, Rhys stroked Eskel's cock.

There was no hurry in any of them, and it suited Rhys just fine. It was exactly what Eskel needed, and Rhys was taken in by witnessing this, and even being a part of it. He knew perfectly well how hard it was for Eskel to ask for things, and to allow himself to accept pleasure like this. Especially from Geralt.

Settling down with Eskel in his arms, letting Geralt's thrusts push Eskel's cock through his fingers, Rhys watched. He savored the warm gold of their auras, blending together and reflecting a fire that grew and grew and fed on their lust.

An elbow came down by Eskel’s head and Geralt rested his weight on it. Pushing with his feet, Eskel raised his hips to meet Geralt’s next thrust, and Geralt slid his hand from Eskel’s waist behind the low arch of his back. Lifting Eskel’s hips higher and canting his hips Geralt drove in striking Eskel just right.

The motion knocked a stuttering cry loose from Eskel. Spots dotted his vision. The steady pull and plunge of Geralt, his cock rubbing along that spot inside that made Eskel’s groin tingle was too much. Every time Geralt pitched his hips forward Eskel uttered a noise, louder and louder. Until he was crying out unabashedly, body shaking.

There was a moment when Eskel thought he could have come from that alone, the way Geralt’s cock filled his ass and rutted incessantly into that one spot again and again as ceaselessly as the ocean waves. He didn’t need to though. Rhys’ hands teased Eskel artfully. Touching him in every way he enjoyed. Fingers ghosting over Eskel’ balls to tease around his hole and touch that place where Geralt connected to him. Fingers teasing up his shaft, light pressure never enough to get him off, lips on his clavicle, a hand brushing the hair on the inside of his thigh. All of it unendurable pleasure.

Eskel came with a loud hoarse cry, gurgling out of his throat. Cum spurted up his belly and ran over his chest from the way Geralt was lifting Eskel’s ass in the air.

The sound of Eskel coming and the way his hole spasmed around Geralt was a gift incomparable. Pleasure given and taken willingly. Diving down, Geralt captured Eskel’s mouth in a soft kiss, hips finding their own rhythm. Faster and longer, a pace that had the glove of Eskel’s body milking Geralt for everything. 

Breathlessly, Geralt turned to Rhys and kissed him as well. When they broke apart, Geralt ran a finger up the underside of Rhys’ cock, glorying in the slight tremor it started. Looking down the sight of Eskel completely dazed and drifting, cum covering his belly and chest, did Geralt in. Biting his lip to hold in a shout, he punched his hips forward one more time, forcing a drunk sounding groan out of Eskel and spilled into him. Geralt’s orgasm ripping through him hot and sudden and violent. Jerking his body against Eskel.

Falling onto Eskel, Geralt immediately rolled over taking Eskel with him. Lazily he looked towards Rhys and motioned for him to come over with the flopping of a single hand, unwilling to let Eskel go where he laid over Geralt. His breathing was surprisingly soft and shallow, body loose and Geralt stroked his back softly.

Rhys nestled into them, face pressed into Geralt's neck and one hand petting Eskel's hair. Soon, he would get up and fetch some water to clean them up. Not not just now. He wanted them to savor this moment, let it slowly sink in.

And he wanted to enjoy it himself, being invited into this, sharing their intimacy. Rhys took a deep breath, their mingled scents of juniper, blade oil, leather and clean sweat strong in his nose. Dropping back into astral sense, he listened to the slow drip of water on stone and the faint glass harp song while curling up on green moss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Info:  
> con dub con  
> dom drop


End file.
